Truth or Dare
by BuffySunnydale
Summary: MATURE. Spike and Buffy meet for the first time, and he makes her a deal she can't refuse. AU where smoking cigarettes in public is still legal. I do not own the rights to Buffy, Spike, or any other characters I write about. Please R&R or I will cry.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Boredom. Something I would have literally killed for back in high school. Now I would kill for just a fraction of the excitement I had when I was younger. The Bronze is a ghost town tonight, as I sit at the bar, chewing on my straw and waiting for the buzz to kick in from my watered down rum and coke. Nothing for a slayer to do, everyone else has it taken care of... Damn Giles and his great training. I fidget with the zipper on the front of my new tight black dress.

_No one's even trying to pick me up. What a waste of a short skirt._

The bartender slams another drink on the bar in front of me. I look up, confused. "From the blonde in the back," he explains, pointing.

I can't quite make out who it is, so I hold up the drink and give a nod to the blob in the back. The blob stands up.

_Oh great. He's walking over to me. The last thing I need is some desperate loser trying to talk to me for the rest of the night._

As he walks closer, beer bottle hanging by his side, I can't help but notice the sexy rockstar swagger of his hips.

_Shit. Another bad boy. Just what I need._

He has spiky blonde hair, pierced ears, and underneath a studded leather biker jacket he is wearing the tightest t-shirt possible, and I recognize the artwork from one of the Sex Pistol's albums. His black jeans are faded and tight in all the right places.

_Mmm. He's way too hot to be a vampire._

The night is suddenly starting to look a little less boring.

"I couldn't help but notice you sitting all alone at the bar. Are you waiting for someone?" _I couldn't help but notice your sexy British accent_...

"No, just killing time. Thanks for the drink." I hold up my drink and he taps it with his beer bottle.

"My pleasure. The name is Spike." He holds out his hand and I shake it.

"My name is Buffy. Nice to meet you, Spike. Would you like sit down?" I ask, patting the bar stool next to me.

"Don't mind if I do."

_Ungh. That accent!_

Spike takes off his jacket and places it on the stool next to him. My heart skips a beat as I notice the Union Jack tattoo on his neck and the muscles in his arms. He is wearing some kind of wristband on his left arm with metal spikes sticking out of it.

_Spike...how appropriate._

"So...whereabouts are you from, Spike?"

"Texas," he drawls, tipping an invisible cowboy hat.

"Ha ha. Very funny," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself. I grew up in London. But I've lived here in Sunnydale for a few years now. What about you?"

He takes another swig of his beer and lights a cigarette. His biceps flex with every movement.

_Is he doing that on purpose?_

"Oh, Just boring ol' Sunnydale," I reply, shaking my head.

"It's _boring,_ is it?" He mocks my accent with the word 'boring'. "Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we now?" He touches my thigh and lightning bolts pass through me.

"I guess that depends on what you have in mind." I bite my lip and tilt my head as I look questioningly into his gorgeous blue eyes.

Spike stamps out his cigarette into the ashtray and takes the last swig of his beer. "You just finish up your drink. I'll take care of everything else."

I pick up my drink and begin to sip on it slowly. My head is spinning with the possibilities.

_You barely know this guy, Buffy! What are you thinking? Do you really want to leave with him? _

_Oh, stop. You're the slayer! It's not like he can hurt you. You've spent your whole life trying to do the right thing. Live a little! _

Before I can make up my mind, Spike grabs my hand and pulls me off the barstool onto my feet. "Hey! I wasn't finished with my drink!" I protest.

"I'll get you another one later. Come on!" Spike closes the tab, grabs his jacket, I grab my purse, and he leads me out the door. His hand at the small of my back sends chills over my entire body.

"Where are we going?" I ask, as we exit the doors and breathe in the chilly night air.

"You'll see." He is holding my hand now, tracing circles on my palm with his thumb.

_Oh God. Can't we just make out? Like, right now?_

As he pulls me along, I start to realize where we are headed, but I don't let on. He's trying to excite me, not realizing that the graveyard is a place I am quite familiar with. I rub my arms and suck in a breath. "I'm so sorry! Are you cold?" he asks. I nod and he hands me his jacket. I'll have to remember that one. Any excuse to get another look at those arms! I shrug the jacket on, surprised at the weight of it and continue to walk. These heels are _not_ made for walking.

As we arrive at the cemetery gates, I look around and try to act confused. "What are we doing here?" I ask innocently.

"I dunno," he shrugs. "Something about this place just draws me in."

"Freak!" I joke, and punch him in the arm.

_Ouch. _

Spike smiles and shakes his head. He bends over and picks up an edge of the chain link fence for me to crawl through. I can tell he's checking out at my ass, but try to ignore it.

He follows me in and we stand for a moment just looking at each other.

"Um..I didn't really have a plan past this," he laughs. "I'm surprised you're so cool and collected. I figured the thought of me taking you to a graveyard would either scare you off or make you think I'm terribly exciting and mysterious." His blue eyes sparkle as he runs his fingers through his hair. When he lifts his arm I get a glimpse of a tattoo that I didn't notice before. A skull and crossbones with a banner reading "Let me rest in peace".

_What is it with this guy and death?_

"There's a lot about me that would surprise you," I mumble, and walk ahead of him, trailing my fingertips on the tops of tombstones.

_Poor guy has no idea what he's gotten himself into. I think this is the first time I've ever been to a graveyard for a reason other than to fight zombies. Weird. _

Spike follows behind me, occasionally reading snippets of tombstone engravings aloud.

"I think I want my tombstone to say something about how I lived a life without regrets." I say.

"Maybe I could help with that, Petal." Spike places his hand on my shoulder and moves in behind me, breathing in the scent of my neck_._

_An Englishman is giving me a pet name. And smelling my neck. How unbelievably hot...Wait a second! My neck! The last person to do that was a—_

I take another step forward and Spike grabs my wrist. As I turn to look at him, I see the tell-tale signs of vampire: the wrinkly forehead, the pointy teeth. I frown.

_Aw, man! I was hoping to get some action tonight! And now I have to kill him. Darn._

I reach to open my purse so I can grab Mr. Pointy, and Spike grabs my other wrist. His face relaxes and the look of hunger is replaced with a look of remorse. "Look, Buffy. I didn't mean to...lose control like that. I've been...watching you. And I just want to talk to you. Don't worry. I know who you are. I know _what_ you are. And I'm not here to hurt you."

"Oh, really?" I scoff. "What did you bring me to this graveyard for then? A game of strip poker?"

"Well, that idea isn't half bad, actually..." He shakes his head. "No, Pet. I'm here strictly on business."

"And what sort of business involves pointy fangs?" I ask.

"Funny that you should ask. The thing is... I need your blood."

I struggle to release my wrists again to grab my stake. Any movement by me just tightens his grip. It's been a long time since I've been overpowered by...anyone, really.

"Um, yeah. That's what I thought. No surprise there. Now let go of my wrists and I'll be on my way." At this point, I am starting to panic a little. This guy is _strong. _

"Buffy. I really don't want to hurt you. I have a proposal for you, but you can't run off. I need you to listen to me. If I let go, will you listen?"

Tears spring to my eyes from the sheer pain in my wrists.

_What's the worst that could happen? He hasn't tried to bite me... yet. So maybe I'm safe? _The pleading look in his eyes makes me relax just a bit and he loosens his grip.

"Oh, all right." I huff, "What is your 'proposal'?"

He releases my wrists and I try in vain to rub the sting out of them. Spike lights another cigarette and offers me the pack. I shake my head in refusal. As he takes his first drag he starts to pace in front of me. Spike takes another deep pull from his cigarette and runs his hands through his golden hair.

_Geez, spit it out already! If it's my blood you want, I know what my answer is going to be! _

Finally, after what seems like a century, he begins to speak. "I died one hundred and thirty three years ago. I've made my way up the ladder of power and became stronger than you can imagine. I have killed slayers and I have feasted on their blood. I was unstoppable."

"Was?" I ask, my voice cracking.

Spike takes a quick drag of his cigarette. "I don't know what's happening to me, Buffy. I can't fight like I used to. I get weak after a few minutes. It takes me days to recover from an injury. This is not like me...I...I think I'm dying, Buffy."

"So maybe you're just getting old." I shrug, "What's that got to do with me?"

"Vampires don't _get_ old. You know that. It's like someone has found a way to poison me. Human blood helps a little, but it's like I'm building up an immunity to it. I've gone over every possibility, and I just can't help but think that a slayer's blood would cure me for good."

"No. No way. What made you think that I would just give you my blood? You're a vampire! I should have killed you when I had the chance!"

Spike flicks his cigarette into the darkness and takes a step closer, breathing into my ear. "Because I have something you need, Pet."

"Oh? And what is it you think that I need?" I try to take a step back, but Spike just moves forward until I am trapped between his gigantic chest and the trunk of a tree.

"Excitement. You yourself said Sunnydale is boring. I can help you with that. I may be a lot of things, but boring is not one of them." His lips are on my neck now, tickling it with his hot breath as he speaks, and he pushes his jacket off of my shoulders. It falls to the ground with a thump.

I scoff. "Spike, that's flattering and all, but I think I can find something to do to take my mind off the boredom. Something that doesn't involve a blood donation." I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but something stops me. The feel of his tight upper body under my hands instantly makes me weak at the knees. As I move my hands down to his torso I can feel every hard muscle beneath his soft t-shirt. _This is crazy, Buffy. Don't give in! There are plenty of rock-hard men that would kill to have you touch their chests! But then again...it _has_ been a while. Maybe you could just play with him and _then_ kill him? _My heartbeat quickens at the thought, and I know that he can hear it.

"Buffy, please." He breathes my name onto my neck and my entire body tightens.

His hands are suddenly on my waist, and moving upward. I turn my head and place my lips next to his ear.

"Make it worth my while then," I whisper. "I dare you."

I can feel Spike smile against my cheek. "Oh, is that how it's going to be? It's been years since I've played Truth or Dare. But I'm warning you, Love, I'm not much for truth, and I can _never_ resist a dare."

_Neither can I, Spike. Neither can I._

I bite my lip to hide my smile and try to push him off of me, but he grinds his hips into mine.

_God, that feels good_.

I give in too quickly and grab onto the bottom of his t-shirt, practically ripping it off of him. His body is even better than I imagined. Muscles that I never knew existed rippled in his chest and abdomen. Two muscles forming a 'v' lead to a secret place below his black jeans.

While I'm busy staring at his chest, I realize he has taken hold of my hair. He pulls my head to the side to get a view of my neck and licks it slowly with his warm tongue. "May I?" he asks and looks up at me. There's that sad look in his eyes again.

"Geez, can't you _wait_? You still haven't upheld your part of the bargain! You said you would make it worth my while!"

"If you want me to have the energy for that, I suggest you let me drink. Trust me. You won't be sorry."

I sigh and tilt my head to the side. "I do trust you. Heaven knows why. Just don't go overboard and kill me or something. I'm pretty popular around here. People _need_ me."

Spike instantly returns to full-on vampire mode. I don't know if I'll ever get used to that- the look of a killer. I'm trained to slay killers! Just as I think I might be making a huge mistake, Spike pushes my head further to the side and quickly sinks his teeth into my neck. The feeling of him sucking my blood is indescribable. A mixture of pain and the most incredible pleasure I have ever experienced. I groan unexpectedly and my breathing becomes ragged. I can't believe I'm actually enjoying this. The sound of my pleasure makes him so hard that I can feel it against my hip. I reach down and grab him through his jeans and push on the bulge with the palm of my hand.

I can feel his body tense and become hot, and he releases his grip on my neck. I feel his teeth retracting from my skin and a sharp sting. I groan with the disappointment that it's over, and he looks at me incredulously, licking my blood off of his lower lip. "You quite enjoyed that didn't you, Pet?"

I can feel my cheeks turning beet red. "Erm, no. Not really. It was just...different," I lie. "Thank you for restraining yourself...you know, not killing me and all..."

"Believe me, it was not easy, but killing you was the last thing on my mind." He grins, and I can tell he is undressing me in his head.

"Feel any better?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"I feel almost...immortal!" He grins, and picks me up swinging me around. I giggle like a little schoolgirl.

"Well, I guess now it's time for your end of the bargain," I say, and playfully bite his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I awake the next morning with a start and foggy memories begin rushing back into my head. The Bronze...Too much to drink...Hot blonde...Cemetery...I rub a dull throbbing spot in my neck and the word "vampire" springs to mind, snapping my eyes open.

I look around the room from the bed I am lying in and see nothing but a stone floor, stone walls, and what looks to be a large stone table in front of me. I hear a rustling of paper and follow the noise to Spike, who is sitting in a leather chair, reading. He is bare-chested, wearing nothing but his black jeans, and has one leg propped over the side of the armchair. Just the sight of his bare feet gives me chills. Spike looks up when he hears me stand up from the tangled sheets, and gives me a half-smile when he sees me saunter over to him. My feet are also bare, but unfortunately, I am still wearing the same black dress and black panties as last night.

_I never would have pegged you for such a gentleman, Spike. _

I pull Spike's dangling leg down to place it in front of him and take the book from his hand, placing it gently on a side table. I have to pull my skirt up a little to straddle him, and I make myself a place on his lap, facing him. Spike grins again at my sudden attempts to be brazen.

"Good morning, Love. Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"I think so. Are you gonna finish what you started?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Truth or Dare, Spike!" My voice raises to a shrill when I say his name. I can't believe he's forgotten already.

"My, my, my! You are a shameless little slayer. You naughty girl, you," he tsks, but he is smiling. He plants his hot lips upon mine and grabs the back of my head. It is our first kiss and it is delicious. He releases his grip and I am reeling.

"But don't you think this is daring enough?" He waves one hand to survey our digs.

"Um, it's nice and all...but no. Not very daring," I roll my eyes.

"You mean to tell me you've been in a crypt before?"

My head jerks up and I look around again. "A crypt? You can't be serious!"

Spike looks surprised. "Hey! Last night you said it was nice!"

"I was drunk! I thought it was one of those expensive minimalist hotels! Ew! What the fuck are we doing in here?"

"I'm a vampire, Pet! I thought you knew that. You thought I lived in a _hotel_?" He laughs. "Hotels are for nancies!" The sound of Spike's laughter calms my nerves, but I still punch him in the arm.

_Ouch. I really need to stop doing that. _

"OK, so we're in a crypt," I shake my head. "I guess I can handle that. I've been surrounded by death my whole life. So what did you have in mind?" I ask.

"I suppose it's safe to assume if you've never been inside a crypt, that you've never shagged a good-looking vampire in one." He is playfully rubbing the top of my bare thighs as he speaks.

Just hearing him talk about "shagging" makes me wet. "Spike! What makes you think I want to have sex with you?"

"Because I can smell you, love. And your body has been screaming for mine since the moment we met."

_Damn. He's hit the nail on the head with that one._

I try to look shocked. "Look, Spike. I don't know what you think you _smell_. I get that all the time. Just my natural pheromones, I guess. That doesn't mean I want to 'shag' you."

Spike doesn't hesitate, and moves his hand down in between my legs. His long fingers push my panties down and swipe across my wet core. To my disappointment, he doesn't leave his hand there, but pulls it out of my panties and puts it up to my face so that I can see how wet it is. "Your body says otherwise. Make no mistake about it, Love. The only one who gets to play games here is me."

My cheeks flush and I start to get off of his lap, but Spike's large hands grab me by the waist. "And just where do you think you're going?" He pulls me close to him and buries his face in my cleavage. His hands move up my waist and around the front until they are cupping my breasts. I take in a sharp breath and he looks up at me with those baby blues. He is watching my face as he begins to unzip my dress, _painfully _slow. My breasts are exposed and taut, and Spike grabs the left one and puts the nipple to his mouth, licking it gently. "Fuck, Buffy. They taste even better than they look."

And that's all it takes. I completely lose control and begin to groan. I want him so bad I can taste it. I look down and he is smiling at my pleasure, still with my nipple in between his teeth. I hazily realize that I am grinding into his hips a little harder than I probably should.

_Get a hold of yourself, Buffy! Play it cool!_

His hand is between my legs again, pushing my panties to the side, his forefinger entering me without hesitation. I moan and push my hips against his hand.

"Do you want me now?" He asks, his lips still on my nipple.

I nod.

"Say it. Say you want me."

"I want you, Spike... Fuck, I _want _you."

Spike hurriedly moves his hands and grabs me under the ass, carrying me with my legs around his waist to drop me onto my back on the bed. This time the look of hunger in his eyes has nothing to do with my blood. Spike bends down and pulls the zipper completely down on the front of my dress and pulls the sleeves of my dress off of my shoulders. He is no longer taking his time, and my panties don't stand a chance. He reaches down and rips them off, balling them up in his fist and tossing the wet mess across the room.

He almost looks angry, and for a brief moment I wonder if I should be scared, but his features soften as he looks at me lying naked on his bed. Spike unbuttons his jeans and I reach up to help, but he pushes me back on to the mattress. He unzips his jeans and pulls them slowly off of his hips, teasing me until I can see his massive cock. I let out a slow breath that's almost a whistle and he pulls the jeans off completely, throwing them next to my panties on the floor.

Looking down at me, he runs his right hand from my collarbone down to my pelvis and around to my ass, squeezing it, hard. He bends down and hooks his arm under my knee, pulling my knee up next to his face and suddenly I feel him start to push his rock hard cock into my wet and aching center. I am not used to someone his size, so he has to enter me slowly, and then the feeling of him inside me is better than anything I have ever experienced. I let out a loud moan and he covers my mouth with his, kissing me hard, exploring my mouth with his tongue.

He pulls my leg up even further until it is over his shoulder, and I can feel every inch of him inside of me. As he moves his hips up and down, in and out, he is trying to be gentle, but I can tell he wants to pound me.

"Harder." I beg, and he takes it as a command. The rhythm of his hips increases and he is pummeling me, causing enough friction between our bodies to start a fire. The headboard is squeaking so loudly I am briefly afraid we might break it.

I bring my focus back to Spike's face and notice the beads of sweat on his forehead. I reach up to wipe them away, and realize that the action might seem a little too romantic for his taste. Instead I grab onto his hair and pull. Spike moans and changes the position of his hips. The slight change in position sends me over the edge and I reach down and rub my clit to intensify the orgasm that I know is on its way.

"No, no, no," Spike shakes his head and grabs my wrists, pulling them until they are lying over my head. "I'll take care of that." With one hand, he is holding my wrists above my head, while the other begins to circle my clit. He doesn't even need to move and I am done for. Fireworks explode around me and my body quivers and convulses. My orgasm gives Spike permission to have his own, and he releases into me. He collapses onto my naked body and we are both spent. Trailing my fingers up and down his spine, I fall asleep.

I awake a few hours later and Spike is lying behind me, in a spooning position. I yawn and stretch my legs and feel his cock grow hard against my ass.

_Again, Spike?_

I grin with satisfaction. It feels good to be wanted this much.

I start to get up and he grabs me by the right breast, squeezing my nipple between his fingers. There's no way I'm leaving now. I feign a yawn again and press my backside further against him, making him grow harder, and I pretend not to notice. His hand is kneading my breast from behind and he puts his face over mine to tickle my earlobe with his tongue.

_Unnngh._

After a few moments of teasing his cock with my backside, I know it is obvious to him how wet I am. I reach around to grab his member in my hand. I can hear his breathing intensify in my ear and feel his cock grow larger than I thought possible. I push my ass a little closer and prop my right leg over his. Swiftly I pull his cock until it is inside of me. He groans with pleasure and gives my nipple a hard squeeze with his fingers while his cock rubs me from inside at exactly the right spot. Spike reaches up and pulls my long hair to the side so that he can kiss the back of my neck and then reaches back down to press on my clit with his experienced fingers. "You like that?" he whispers.

It is all too much. We are both coming at the same time and for a moment I worry that we might _actually_ wake the dead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The sound of my stomach growling wakes me. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. I wonder how long I've been sleeping. There aren't any windows in this crypt, so I have no clue whether it's morning or night. I briefly wonder if there's a shower I can use.

I look around for Spike and see him sitting at a small desk. "Spike?" I call, and pad over to where he is writing feverishly. He looks up, startled.

"Sorry, Poppet. Deep in thought I was." His eyes focus on me and after a moment I see them sparkle again.

"Whatcha writing?" I smile and playfully reach for his paper, but he quickly swipes it away.

"Oh, no you don't! For Spike's eyes only."

He stuffs the paper in a leather bound notebook, placing it in the desk drawer. I decide to change the subject.

"Does this place have a shower?" I ask, glancing around. "I stink. Or any food? I'm _starving_."

"I like the way you stink, Pet. You know that. But yeah, there's a shower right through that door." He says, pointing to a door around a corner I didn't notice before.

_This isn't a crypt, it's a penthouse! _

"As for food, fresh out of that. But I could take you somewhere to eat."  
"OK, that sounds good. But first I _have_ to have a shower. I don't know how much longer I can stand my own funk."

"No problem. Let me get you a towel."

It's always a little awkward using someone else's shower. It's just so...personal. And apparently using a man's shower is even more awkward. I turn on the shower and wait for it to become scalding hot and steamy. There is no mirror in this bathroom, which I find a little strange. I pull the shower curtain aside and step into the stream of water. I pick up a bottle of shampoo and take a sniff. Mmmm...I take my time washing off all of the funk, and try not to think about sex...sex with Spike...Not an easy task when just the smell of his shampoo reminds me of him. I make a mental note to invite him to join me for my next shower.

I finish up my shower and turn off the water. I have to put on the same black dress I've been wearing since I met Spike, but maybe I'll just call it my lucky dress. Unfortunately, I have to go commando, since Spike ripped my panties to shreds. The memory comes rushing back and gets me worked up all over again. I briefly try thinking about baseball, but the thought of men in tight pants does no good. I spread some toothpaste on my finger and brush my teeth the best I can. Pulling my hair up into a wet bun, I seriously hope I don't look like a complete freak.

I step out of the bathroom in a haze of steam. Spike is listening to his iPod and smoking a cigarette in his armchair. He looks up at me and sucks in a breath, taking the ear buds out of his ears.

"I know...I know...I'm a mess." I look down and adjust my skirt.

"I was just thinking how you look better and better every time I see you."

I cross the room to where he is sitting and Spike reaches up to touch my face. "Your cheeks are all pink, Petal." I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool while the butterflies in my stomach are throwing a party. "It suits you. Are you sure you don't want to get back in the shower? I could help you wash your back..."

"Spike!" I playfully slap him on the arm. "I can't even think about that right now! I have stuff to do, and I still have to go home eventually today!" Spike grabs the backs of my legs and pulls me closer.

"But I don't want you to go home," he frowns. "I want you to stay here and be my little love slave."

_This is moving way too fast, Buffy! Don't forget, he's only interested in your blood! Go home. See your sister. Check your voicemails._

I roll my eyes again. "Come ON! Let's go eat. I'm starving!"

"Alright, alright. No need to get snippy. Let me just gather up my things." Spike stands up and stubbs out his cigarette. He grabs his chain wallet, shoving it in his back pocket. His outfit is still basically the same as yesterday; with the exception of his black band t-shirt. This one has the sleeves cut off and is stitched on the sides to make it even tighter. It is advertising some band called "The Damned".

_Note to self: study up on my British punk bands._

Spike offers me his motorcycle jacket, but I shake my head so he shrugs it on before we walk out the door.

I don't know why I am so surprised to see that it's night time. Of course Spike can't go out during the day! _Well, at least that makes one stereotype that fits him._

"Would you like to walk, or should I drive?" He asks.

"It's such a nice night. Let's walk."

"Good idea," he agrees, and holds out the crook of his elbow for me to put my arm through. I grin, grabbing his bicep and snuggling close, where I can smell the leather of his jacket.

_Ahhhh! You're not seriously falling for his chivalrous act, are you, Buffy?_

We walk for a few miles until we reach a 24 hour diner. My stomach growls audibly and I see Spike's one-sided smile out of the corner of my eye.

_Excuse me for having this weak human need called "hunger", Spike._

He holds the door open for me and we walk in to the diner which is flooded with fluorescent lights. The place is completely void of customers, but still we choose the booth furthest from the door and slide in next to each other. I pick up a menu and although I'm famished, I'm finding it very hard to focus on the words.

"What's it like to never have to worry about eating? Must be wonderful," I muse.

"I actually quite miss it." Spike lights a cigarette and blows a puff of smoke across the table. "Would you like me to order for you? I can live vicariously through you."

I laugh. "Seriously? OK, sure. I'm not picky."

He calls the waitress over, and an overweight woman takes her time walking over to us. Giving us a bored look, she asks, "What can I get ya?"

"The little lady would like a cheeseburger with fries, a short stack of pancakes, and a slice of apple pie. Oh, and one of them milkshakes. Chocolate." I feel my cheeks get hot as the waitress walks away. Spike blows another puff of smoke and looks over at me. "What?"

"She's gonna think I want to eat all of that!"

"Listen, Pet. If you really want more excitement in your life, the first thing you need to learn is not to give a flying fuck what people think of you." Spike puts his arm around my neck and pulls me closer to whisper in my ear. "Speaking of, the thought of you without any knickers on under that dress is driving me completely mad."

_Gulp._

Spike looks over at my red face. "What? Did you think I could forget? I'm pretty sure I'm the one who ripped them to shreds. You can't _possibly_ be wearing them now." He puts his cigarette in the aluminum ashtray while the waitress walks over with my gigantic tray of food and places the plates on the table.

"Can I get you anything else, hon?" I give the waitress a blank stare, still reeling (and completely turned on) from Spike's admission.

"Um...no...I'm good," I mumble and take a sip of my milkshake.

"Weren't you just saying you've _always _wanted to try grits, Petal?" Spike is really getting a kick out of this.

"Uh...sure. I'll have the grits," I tell the waitress hazily.

I look at my food, realizing I'm not as hungry as I thought I was, and attempt to nibble at a fry.

"Eat up, Love. You'll need your strength for later," Spike kisses my ear and pats me on the knee.

As I drizzle hot syrup on the pancakes and take a bite, my appetite starts to return. Spike's arm is around my waist now, and from the corner of my eye I vaguely notice him staring at me and rubbing the top of my right leg.

_He wasn't kidding about living vicariously, was he?_

I polish off the short stack of pancakes and I'm completely stuffed. Suddenly I become more aware of Spike's hand traveling even further up my thigh, his fingers slowly lifting my skirt. My first instinct is to swipe his hand away, but then I remember he's supposed to be helping me loosen up.

I chew on the straw from my milkshake to hide my smile and pretend not to notice.

Spike obviously can't stand to be ignored. His left hand moves in and brushes against my breast, making me gasp. I look around and whisper loudly, "Spike! Not here!"

"Come on, Love. Live a little! I _dare _you."

My mind goes into a tailspin as he pulls up my knee and lifts my leg over his. His fingers move underneath my skirt to get in between my legs, while the other hand pushes through the top of my dress to feel my breast.

_I can't believe I'm letting him do this! This is insane! _

In an act of sheer defiance to my former self, I reach over and rub the bulge under his jeans.

"There you go... Good girl...You're getting the hang of it now," he growls into my ear.

I see the waitress heading over towards us and all I want to do is make her go away. I adjust myself so that I am straddling Spike's lap, and cover his mouth with my own, kissing him like a madwoman. Spike puts his hands on to the back of my legs and moves them upwards, practically exposing my entire ass. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I see the waitress' jaw drop and hear my plate of grits fall with a crash to the ground. The waitress shuffles away towards the kitchen mumbling something about kids these days.

"I don't think she'll be back," Spike remarks.

"Good," I say decisively, and bend down to kiss his lips again, tasting them with my tongue. Reaching down, I feel him getting harder and I know it's time for me to show that I can take action. Pulling the zipper down on a man's jeans in public is about the wildest thing I've ever done in my life, but at this point there is no going back. I give my former self the middle finger.

Spike moans when he realizes what I am trying to do, and sees my hands start to fumble. _He has to reach down to assist me in unzipping his own pants. How embarrassing._

The sense of urgency between us is thrilling. Someone could break up our little party at any moment, and neither of us are willing to let that happen until we get our fill. Spike unzips his jeans and releases his shaft, placing me on top of it, and kissing me all the while. My ass is completely exposed now, and I feel Spike give it a rough spank and a squeeze before pulling my skirt back down to give me the tiniest shred of decency. I try to make the most miniscule movements possible, so that to the untrained eye it might look like I am just sitting on his lap. The last thing I want is to lose control and call more attention to us, but the pleasure is overwhelming. "Oh God," I whisper in his ear.

"That's it, Pet. I want to feel you... I want to feel you come." He whispers back.

I move up down, back and forth, once or twice more and angels are singing. I am no longer in a crappy diner, I am in heaven.

As soon as I can breathe again, I slide off of Spike and onto the booth next to him, straightening my skirt. The diner is still completely empty. Lucky us. Spike wipes himself off with a cloth napkin, tosses it onto the booth, lifts his hips to zip his jeans, and retrieves a hundred dollar bill from his wallet to leave on the table. We both stand and slide out of the booth, and Spike grabs my hand, pulling me out of the diner at a run.

After all of the excitement I've already had, I am completely out of breath by the time we turn the corner. Looking down at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, Spike asks "Did you enjoy your meal, Poppet?"

I can't even speak. Instead, I grin and give him a breathless, emphatic nod.

Spike looks at me seriously and tilts his head. "So when do _I _get to eat?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Sorry it's taken me a while to update! I'm so glad to see that people are enjoying my silly little story!**

"Come on, Spike! You can't be serious!" I whisper loudly and look around to see if anyone is around. The street is empty. "How often do you have to...to feed?"

Spike looks shocked. "How often do _you _have to feed? I haven't _fed_ since the other night with you, and I'm getting quite anxious. I've been saving myself for you, love. Don't you remember I'm unwell?

"You seem fine to me. How can I be sure you're even sick? You've had plenty of energy to seduce and to...to _use_ me!"

"Oh, really? Is that what you call it? I'm sorry, I thought we had a deal. You give me your blood, I help you dust off those cobwebs between your legs." Spike reaches down to demonstrate the area between my legs to which he is referring, and I swipe his hand away. "If my calculations are correct, you _owe _me. I've only fed once and you've had your way with me...let's see...what has it been...three times now? Who's using whom here?"

I roll my eyes. "_Had my way_ with you? You are seriously delusional, babe. Besides, our little deal didn't necessarily have to be about sex. You just automatically took it to that place because you've had a hard-on for me since the minute we met!"

"Oh, is that a fact? If that were true, then I would have a hard-on for you right now, wouldn't I? ..." Spike grabs my hand and places it roughly below his waist, where sure enough, there is an unmistakable hard-on. "_Wouldn't_ I?" He asks, his eyes shining.

I look up at him, and he wiggles his eyebrows. Spike and I immediately burst out laughing.

_Gosh, he looks good when he laughs._

"Oh, come on," I say as I start to pull him in the direction of his crypt. "We at least need to find a private place. There are too many people in Sunnydale on the lookout for vamps. I still have to go home for a little bit, but if you can drive me there it won't take as long. Then we can go back to your crypt and you can...feed there." Just the thought of him feeding off of me sends a mixture of excitement and fear up my spine. I'm still unsure if it's a good idea for him to see where I live, so I decide against inviting him in.

Spike puts his arm around my waist as we walk, and I have to admit, it feels nice to pretend to have a boyfriend for a few minutes. I've always been so busy with being The Chosen One that I've never really been able to get serious with anyone. Of course, all I can do is pretend. I can never tell anyone that we're...together. They would think I've lost my mind, put me in a mental institution, and then kill Spike. Not necessarily in that order. But it is nice to dream. His arm around my waist feels really..._really _good.

When we arrive at the cemetery parking lot, Spike points to a car and says, "The black one's mine."

_Oh, how appropriate. My fake boyfriend drives a hearse. Just what I need parked on the street in front of my house._

I clear my throat and scratch the back of my head, trying to think of an excuse to walk instead.

_Why oh why didn't I wear better shoes?_

"What's wrong, Poppet? You don't like my old banger?"

"Erm, no. It's not that...I just..."

"Well, come on, then." Spike leads me by the elbow and opens the passenger side door for me. I gingerly sit down on the black leather seat, and Spike closes the door and goes around to the driver's side. When he turns the key to the ignition, music comes blaring out of the speakers. It takes me a moment to recognize that he's been listening to "The Exploited". I'm pretty proud of myself for knowing that, and start singing along to "Punk's Not Dead" at the top of my lungs, playing the air drums like a complete nerd. Spike just stares at me, slack-jawed. I stop before I can embarrass myself any further, and Spike chuckles and reaches down to change the song.

"Oh, I've never heard this one," I say. "What's it called?"

"Sexual Favours," Spike grins and looks behind him as he backs up the car and we take off. My face turns beet red for about the millionth time since I've met him.

I keep pretty quiet during the drive, just listening to the music and muttering the occasional direction. As we pull up to my house, I notice that the lights are on.

"I'll be right back," I tell Spike before shutting the car door. Spike looks a little hurt, but I pretend not to notice.

I walk up the steps and slowly open the front door, dreading the third degree from my little sister that I know is coming. "Dawn? Are you here?" I call, my voice cracking.

Right on cue, Dawn comes bounding around the corner from the kitchen. "Buffy! Hey, what's up? Where have _you_ been?" She asks in her nasal, squeaky voice. Dawn is eighteen years old. She's lived with me since our mom died when she was fifteen, and I've never been able to get rid of her. She can be OK sometimes, but most of the time she just gets on my nerves.

"You know, I've just been staying with...a friend. What have you been up to?"

"Oh no you don't! Don't try to change the subject! I'm not falling for that one. Who is it? Who's the friend? You've been gone for two days!" Dawn is looking me up and down, everything short of smelling me to get a clue about where I've been.

"Geez, Dawn! Leave me alone. It's nothing. No one important. Just a friend. _Really_." I look into Dawn's eyes to assure her that I'm telling the truth and walk up the stairs to my bedroom. Of course Dawn has to follow me.

"OK, fine. I'm not going to bug you about it. I'm just happy for you. You've been needing a boyfriend...I mean, you just seem so down lately. You need to loosen up a little. Let your hair down. Quit being such a stick in the mud."

_Oh, Dawnie. You have no idea..._

I try shutting Dawn out of my bedroom, but of course she just forces her way in and continues to babble. I tune her out and gather some clothes to change into and a few things to take with me to Spike's. It's times like these that I wish I had sexier lingerie...

I go into the bathroom and grab my toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner. While I'm changing into a short floral skirt and black scoop necked t-shirt, I hear Dawn's voice from my bedroom. "Oh my God! Is that him? Is that the guy? Smoking next to the sexy black car? Oh my God, Buffy. He is _so_ hot." I sigh and walk over to my bedroom window where Dawn is looking down at Spike. "Where did you meet him? What does he do? Does he have a job? I bet he's in a band! Is he in a band? Does he know you're the Slayer? Does he mind? How old is he? Does he have a younger brother? Why can't I meet guys like that?"

_How is it possible that my little sister can think of more things to ask about Spike in 3 seconds than I have thought of in 3 days? God! I'm so mentally challenged! Why didn't I ask more questions before jumping into bed with him?_

I turn to my sister and give her a deadpan stare. "He. Is. Just. A. _Friend_."

"Oh, really?" She asks, reaching into the pile of clothes in my arms and holding out a pink thong on her forefinger. "Do friends wear sexy lace panties for each other?"

Blushing, I grab the thong from Dawn and place it back on my pile. "I haven't done laundry lately." I grit my teeth. "And my panties are none of your business."

I brush past Dawn and place my toiletries and clothes inside a duffel bag and zip it up.

"Looks like you and your 'friend' are planning on spending a lot of quality time together." Dawn says teasingly.

"Leave me _alone_!" I scream and shoulder her out of the way so that I can head downstairs. Dawn has the uncanny ability to turn me into a 12-year-old instantaneously, and I always seem to regret it later.

"Well, can I at least invite him in? So I can talk to him and see what makes him so special that he's stolen your heart?"

"NO! And he hasn't-Never mind. I don't have time for this. Do you need anything? Are you OK on groceries?" I reach into my purse and hand Dawn some money for bills. "This should cover everything until I come back. Call my cell if you need anything. I'll be right over." I give Dawn a hug and walk out to Spike's car as quickly as I can before I have to listen to any more of her questions.

Spike throws his cigarette on the ground and stomps on it with his boot. "What'd you bring me?" He asks, as he opens my car door. I toss my duffel bag into the back seat.

"You're welcome to have my sister. My only request is that you don't restrain yourself when feeding off of her." I snicker and slide into the passenger seat. I guess the hearse isn't as embarrassing as I thought it would be. It's actually kind of cool. Dawn seemed to like it, but what does she know? Speaking of, all of her questions have gotten my wheels turning...

After a few minutes of watching Spike drive, I can't resist asking, "So Spike, what do you do? Like for a job? Do vampires even _have_ jobs? I couldn't help but notice that you don't seem to have any problems with money."

Spike bites his lip as he looks over at me. "Do you want the real answer? You may not like what I have to say."

"I can take it. I think."

"What I _do_ is sing in a band."

_Dammit. Dawn was right. Good thing we didn't bet money on it_.

"But unfortunately, that doesn't pay very well. I don't need much money to live off of, but the money that I get is usually from the bodies that I drink from."

"You..._steal_ it?"

"Come on now, Pet! You have no problem with me sucking them dry, but stealing a few dollars gets your knickers in a twist?"

"Well I suppose you have a point there..." I am quiet for a few moments, and then my voice cracks when I say, "Tell me about your band."

"Oh, you know...we're kind of The Clash-meets-Radiohead-meets-Billy Idol." He looks at me and gives me a snarl with his upper lip that makes him look exactly like Billy Idol. I nearly swoon.

"I'm sure your music is very... romantic." I say sarcastically.

"It is, actually. Much more Emo than you would expect from a tough guy like me. And I write all of the lyrics to the songs."

My mind flashes back to when I saw him writing in his little notebook and suddenly I'm Nancy freakin' Drew. _Lyrics? I must get a hold of that notebook!_

"You should come hear us play sometime. You can meet my mates." He reaches over and I think he is going to turn up the radio, but instead he puts his right hand on my knee.

"I would like that. Very much." I reply, and my heart soars.

_He wants me to meet his 'mates'! He likes me! He really, really likes me!_

We arrive back at the graveyard and Spike opens my door and grabs my duffel bag from the back seat. He leads me to the entrance of the crypt, and I enter hesitantly. For some reason I'm feeling shy again.

The instant we are both inside, Spike slams the door and pushes me up against it with his body. Inhaling me from my shoulder blade to my ear, he whispers, "I'm so glad you're starting to smell like Buffy again. I didn't like you smelling like Spike."

"Well...um...I brought my own shamp-" I can't even complete my sentence before Spike's strong lips are covering mine, ravenously tasting my mouth. I breathlessly kiss him back, my tongue finding his. I don't think I'll ever get enough of this.

Spike picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist, pushing me further into the closed door. Our tongues circle each other in a feverish dance and I grab onto his thick arms, clawing them with my fingernails.

Spike pulls his lips away from mine and grabs the back of my hair. He isn't being gentle, but it actually feels kind of..._good_. I notice him staring at the throbbing pulse in my veins and quickly remember what we're here for. "Spike?" I say, timidly. "It's OK... You can drink."

Spike looks down at his feet and mumbles, "I wish there was another way," but when he looks up at me again, his eyes are yellow and his sharp fangs are exposed. In an instant, he is at my throat and I feel the small stab of pain in my neck and the sucking pull of blood being drawn from my body. _Mmmm._ It feels even better than I remembered. My nipples harden and I'm thankful that Spike is holding me up, because I don't think I could stand up on my own. The drinking seems to go on forever, and just as I start to worry that he might be going overboard, I feel his teeth withdraw from my skin. Spike stands me up and wipes the blood off of his mouth with the back of his hand. He staggers backwards a bit like he is drunk.

"I need to lie down." I say softly.

"Yeah. I...I think I to lie down need as well." And we both stumble over to the bed and fall on top of it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I awaken from a pleasant dream about making out with Spike, and am disappointed, but not surprised, to find an empty space next to me on the bed. Stretching out as far as I can without falling off the bed, I manage to grab my purse from the floor. I have to dig around a bit, but eventually find my cell phone at the bottom. The clock on the phone says 8 pm...that can't be right. I've been sleeping for 5 hours. I wonder briefly if I'll ever get used to this fucked up schedule of Spike's. There are 7 voicemails from my sister, all from yesterday and the day before, probably wondering where I was. I delete the messages and stand up to yawn and stretch my legs.

I can hear the shower running and the steam coming from underneath the bathroom door peaks my interest.

_Maybe I should join Spike in the shower..._

I walk over to my duffel bag that's sitting next to the door and turn on the desk lamp so that I can find my toothbrush from one of the side zippers. And there, sitting next to the desk lamp is THE NOTEBOOK I've been dying to read since the day I saw Spike writing in it. I just can't help myself. It's calling to me. I know I shouldn't be nosy, but there is so much about Spike that I don't know. So much that he'll probably never tell me. What could it possibly contain? A diary? Poetry? Surely not! Song lyrics? Most likely.

_Buffy, you are a terrible person. That is his private property._

_But...then again, if it was so private, he would have locked it in the desk drawer..._

Glancing up to make sure Spike is still in the shower, I reach down and brush my fingers over the notebook's soft leather cover.

_Just a little peek. _

Untying the little leather strap on the outside, I leave the notebook where it lies on the desk. I thumb through the book and open it to a spot in the middle and glance down. His handwriting is beautiful. I run my fingers over the indentations of his writing. As I suspected, there are music lyrics scrawled across the pages and random words written and marked through in the corners.

_She came from up above/Murdering my love_

_She made me who I am/Now I'm one of the damned_

_She keeps twisting the knife/I owe her my life_

_I don't want her but I need her_

_Can't live without her_

_Yeah I'm trying to leave her_

_But she keeps pulling me down with her_

The guilt is too much. My heart is pounding from my little evil deed. I would make a terrible Nancy Drew. I quickly close the notebook, retie the strap and take a deep breath.

I walk over to the bed and sit on the edge while I compose myself. _Whoa. _I definitely wasn't expecting something like that. I don't exactly know _what_ I was expecting. _Was I hoping to read something about myself? I hope that song wasn't written about me, because that woman sounds like a royal bitch! _

_Who could it be? It must be the person who turned him...what's the right word for that? Sired? That line...what was it? "Murdering my love?" Surely that's a metaphor! Wow. He's like no other vampire I've ever met. He's...sensitive and...gentle...he writes song lyrics...Is "she" the reason for that? Did she hurt him? Did he ever manage to get away from her? _

My mind is running a mile a minute with questions. I _have_ to find a way to get some more details out of him. If that's really what happened, Spike is hiding much more from me than I ever thought possible. I'm actually starting to feel sorry for the guy.

When I think I can finally walk again, I stand up and grab my duffel bag. Placing the bag's handle on my shoulder, I feel a dull pain in my neck. It takes me a moment to remember the bite. Thank goodness I'm a fast healer. If someone in this town saw that, I'd be burnt at the stake.

I walk over to the bathroom and quietly open the door. The steam from the shower hits my face and I can smell Spike before I hear him humming. I place my bag quietly on the floor and remove my boots, my shirt and my skirt, listening to Spike hum softly the whole time. I tiptoe over to the shower in my blue silk bra and panties, peeking in through the curtain. What I see immediately makes me grin. Spike's hair is pulled up into a sudsy Mohawk. He is covered in white bubbles and holding a bar of soap like it is a microphone.

"_You give me fever/When you kiss me/Fever when you hold me tiiiiight/Fever!" _

In a theatrical move, Spike jerks his head up and pops his eyes open. I can't help but burst into a fit of giggles, making Spike turn red with embarrassment.

"Oh! Didn't see you there, Pet. Have you been there long?"

"Long enough...Please. Continue. I was enjoying your rendition."

"Nah, it's alright... We'll save it for when you come watch me and my mates play. Besides, I have to keep my vocal chords in tip-top shape." Spike gives me a little wink. "I was just rinsing off in here. You ready for your soap up?" Spike leans back and puts his hands on top of his head to rinse his hair, giving me a full view of his amazing body.

Now it's my turn to blush. "Um, don't worry about me. I can do it. You've been in the shower long enough."

"Oh no. You're not getting off that easily. I'm going to give you the best shower you've ever had. Now get in, before I have to _make _you get in."

I bite my lip and hesitate.

"Feeling shy all of the sudden, are we?" And suddenly Spike is throwing open the shower curtain, grabbing me around the waist and lifting me into the shower, undies and all.

"Spike!" I protest, slapping his arm. Spike puts me down on the floor of the shower underneath the flow of the water and tilts his head, looking deep into my eyes.

"I'm sorry, love. Are you cross?" He looks genuinely worried that I might be angry, like a little boy who's just been scolded.

"Oh, no Spike. I'm not mad. My lingerie might be ruined, but I'm getting used to that. I know you were just teasing." I give him a reassuring smile.

Spike moves forward and wraps his wet arms around me, giving me a strong hug and lifting my feet off the floor. I wrap my legs around him and kiss his neck, moving my hands up his chiseled back. Spike practically starts purring. I love that I can do that to him.

Sliding off of him, I stand back up again and have to steady myself on Spike's arm to keep from slipping. "Why did you stop? I was quite enjoying that," Spike asks.

"I thought you were going to give me the best shower I've ever had," I reply, raising my eyebrows.

"You have no idea what you're in for, little miss. Just turn around." Spike grins and grabs the bar of soap and I turn around so that my back is facing him.

Spike lathers the bar of soap in his hands and rubs the lather onto my shoulders. I pick up my long hair and hold it on top of my head. Having my back turned to him is helping me to feel more confident. "Spike, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm? Of course, what is it?"

"How did you...become a...a vampire?"

I can feel Spike's hands cease their movements around my back. "Oh, you know. I..uh...I was bitten. By a vampire. When I bit her back, I became one too. Isn't that how it normally works?"

"Her? It was a...a female?" My voice is barely a whisper.

"Yeah. Drusilla sired me."

"That was her name? Drusilla?" I try to sound indifferent-meanwhile, her name runs through my head on repeat as I try to imagine what someone named Drusilla might look like. Probably beautiful. An evil, beautiful bitch.

"Yeah. She's dead now." His hands start massaging the suds into my back again.

"Dead? Wasn't she always dead? I mean, are you sure she's dead? Like, she won't be showing up here for tea today?"

"Oh yeah. I'm sure she's dead. Killed her myself." Spike grabs my wrist and pulls me to around to face him again. "What's wrong, pet? Are you jealous?" He lifts and eyebrow and the twinkle is back in his eyes.

"Hell no, I'm not jealous! I was just trying to get to know you! I would think that the person who sired you would be a pretty important person in your life!"

"If I said that she _was_ an important person in my life, then would you be jealous?"

"So she was important! I knew it!" I think the steam is no longer coming from the shower, but from my ears.

"Aww, pet...You have no reason to be jealous. Drusilla is gone now. Poof! Out of the picture." Spike grabs my arm again and gives me sweet little kisses from my wrist to my neck, and down across my breasts. I'm like putty in his hands.

Spike's kisses move down further on my breasts until he is kissing and biting at my nipples over my bra. "I don't think you need this anymore, do you?" He asks, and reaches behind me to unhook the clasp. I shut my eyes and let out a deep sigh; forgetting my jealousy, letting the bliss flow over me like the water from the shower. I can feel Spike watching me as he slowly pulls down my bra straps and releases me from its confines completely. I don't feel the same sense of urgency from him that I normally do. He's taking his time and being gentle this time. _Hmm._

Spike hangs my bra on a hook outside the shower and turns back to me, moving on to my panties. He hooks his thumbs under the elastic on each side of my hips and bit by bit pulls them down. I lift my feet one at a time to help him pull the panties completely off and Spike hangs them up with my bra.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" He asks.

I let out a laugh and start to cover my breasts with my hands, but Spike grabs them and puts them at my side. "No... I want to look at you." He lets his eyes slowly graze over my body and grits his teeth. "Beautiful," he repeats, shaking his head.

"No one has called me that before," I whisper.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"Nope. I've gotten things like 'cute'...'hot'...even 'pretty'. But never beautiful."

Spike grasps my chin in his hand and strokes my bottom lip with his thumb. "Now you listen to me. You are...the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He moves his head in to kiss me and the water pours over both of us. I kiss him back more passionately than I have ever kissed anyone. My heart feels like it's going to explode, and I know Spike can hear it. His mouth moves across my jaw and down my neck, where they stay, sucking, nibbling and kissing. _How does he keep from biting me?_

His hand is still on the side of my face, so I grab it, putting his thumb in my mouth, following his lead of sucking, nibbling and kissing. Spike moans with pleasure, and I move my hand down to grab his growing member, but Spike moves my hand away. "This is _your_ shower, remember?" He takes his thumb out of my mouth, watching me the whole time, and moves both of his hands slowly down my sides, cupping my breasts in his hands and bending down to taste them. He moves his hands down further, and when he arrives at my thighs, he grabs them with both hands and all of the sudden I notice that he is bending down until he is on his knees. _Oh God. Is he about to do what I think he's going to do?_

Looking up at me with his stunning blue eyes, I feel his finger enter me and then his eyes disappear as he leans his face in between my legs, tasting me. Taking hold of one of my thighs, he hikes it up until my foot is resting on the side of the tub, and then he pushes his tongue even deeper, licking my clit and moving his finger inside of me continuing the same pulsating rhythm until I can't take it anymore. I moan loudly.

"That's it... I want to taste you," he says, his head still buried.

As if on command, I climax around his tongue, his lips, and his finger, until I can barely stand up any longer. I am seeing spots and I need to sit down. Spike chuckles and grabs the bar of soap again. "I almost forgot. I still have to finish giving you your shower." As he rubs the suds across my chest and arms, he gives me a concerned look. "Are you OK, Pet? I know you've lost a lot of blood the past few days, and the last thing I want to do is weaken you."

"No no. I'm fine. Better than fine. Just a little woozy, that's all. You were right. That was the best shower I've ever had."

"Well, I'm not done yet." Spike gives me a proud smile and continues with his lathering. He moves on to my hair, humming a little ditty. When I regain my energy, I look down and can't help but notice that he still has a hard-on the size of Mt. Rushmore. I reach down and give it a little rub with my palm. "I know this is 'my special shower' and all, but do you mind if I...?"

Spike laughs, "That's thing you definitely don't need to ask permission to do!"

Smiling back at him, I crouch down on my knees and grab the base of his erection in my hand. I can already hear him groaning. Letting my tongue do most of the work, I flick it around underneath the tip and down the base, tickling his balls with my other hand.

I open my mouth to take him in and let my tongue continue to move in circles around his shaft as my mouth moves downward. Slowly I move my hand and my mouth up and down at the same pace and feel Spike grab onto and pull my hair. I pull my head back and look up at him. His jaw is clenched and for a moment I think he is in pain. "Don't...stop..." He pants. I bring my mouth back on to his cock, sucking and pulling, letting my tongue press against the bottom of his shaft. "Oh...God...Buffy...I'm..."

Spike moves his hand down to gently push my chin back and I release my hold on him just as he releases his climax on to my breasts.

"Oh, dear. Now we're going to have to wash you off again," Spike says, lifting me up and kissing me hard.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Spike and I finish up our shower and my strength starts to return once the water is turned off.

"Would you like to take a nap? We'll be out pretty late, and I don't want you getting tired on me tonight," Spike says with a crooked grin.

"Oh, really? What's happening tonight?"

"You're coming with me to watch my band play! How quickly she forgets!" Spike looks exasperated.

"That's tonight? Already? I'm not sure I—I'm ready to know what your friends think of me." I look down as I realize how pathetic the excuse sounds coming from my lips.

Spike lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. "I want you to meet my mates. I want to show you off, Pet."

I blush and turn away. "Spike, I think whatever it is that's making you sick has seriously gone to your head."

Spike swats me on the ass with his towel. "If you're going to act like that, I just won't take you anywhere. We'll have to stay here and work on your attitude, missy."

"Hey!" I protest. "I'll go, I'll go! But you're right. I should probably rest if I'm going to stay up late yet another night."

I put on my robe and walk over to the bed, combing out my hair. "OK, well I need to go do some last minute things for the show tonight. I'll be back in a few hours," Spike says with a sigh.

"You're just going to leave me here alone?" I pout.

"Ohhhh...is the Slayer scared? I never thought I would see the day," Spike teases.

"You're right. I don't know what came over me. I guess it's the idea of sleeping in a crypt by myself. I'll be fine. I have Mr. Pointy. You go." I shoo him out the door and Spike turns to give me a quick kiss on the lips. I shut the door firmly behind him.

I retrieve Mr. Pointy from my duffel bag and head over to the bed. As soon as I lie down on the soft sheets I drift into a deep sleep. I dream of a fire, of Spike, and of a small brunette woman wearing a ruby red Victorian dress. She keeps putting her hand through the flames and laughing at Spike. I have the feeling that Spike is in trouble, and I want to help him, but I am tied to the bed, unable to even make a sound.

I am abruptly awoken by the sound of leaves crunching outside the door to the crypt. _Is Spike back already? Have I really been asleep for that long? _I hear another set of footsteps and two people whispering. _Now I know that's not Spike. He would never bring someone with him without telling me first. Right?_

I jump to my feet with my stake in my hand, clutching my robe closed with the other hand. I move over to stand by the door and place my back against the wall. I can almost make out what the voices are saying. "...He must've...few minutes ago...don't know...the girl...went with...OK...see you then." More footsteps and then the voices fade away. _Damn! Why didn't I just go out there and dust them?_

Walking back to the bed, I flop down on the mattress to pout. _I'm turning into such a pussycat in my old age..._ I toss and turn and try to fall asleep again, but after all the excitement, there is no chance.

Standing up, I decide to start getting ready. I scrounge through my duffel bag once again and find my makeup bag and all of the components of the outfit that I want to wear_. I really need a drawer or something if I'm going to continue to stay here._

Luckily I have a compact with a mirror this time. Pulling my hair back in a loose bun, I start with my makeup. Channeling my inner rock star, I give myself a smoky eye and use way more eyeliner than I would usually use. I decide to make my lips a dark crimson. Putting my makeup on takes my mind off of whoever was snooping around a few minutes ago.

Letting the robe fall to the ground, I rub my favorite lotion on my arms and legs and can't help but reminisce about Spike's large hands lathering me up in the shower. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I point my toes and pull on a pair of black fishnet tights. I adjust my lacy black bra so that my cleavage is spilling over inappropriately, and pull on a tight black spandex dress. And black leather boots. _Bad, bad pussycat. _

Just as I am pulling the bun from my hair and putting it over one shoulder, I hear Spike walking through the door. I come out from the bathroom to meet him and he stops dead in his tracks, clutching his chest. "Be still my heart."

"Isn't your heart already still?" I ask, putting my hands on my hips and doing a little curtsy.

"I think I've changed my mind about showing you off to my mates. They'll turn into a pack of wolves around you." Spike puts up one finger. "Don't move. I have just the thing."

Spike goes to his closet and returns with a black leather vest covered in spikes. He hands it to me and I turn it around. On the back, there is an oversized patch reading "The Dearly Departed" with a drawing of Spike singing into a microphone. Spike points to it, "The name of my band. And spikes. So everyone will know you're mine," he says nervously, running his fingers through his hair.

Spike helps me put the vest around my shoulders, and I turn to him, putting my arms around his neck. "I love it. It's perfect." I pull his head towards me and kiss him on the lips.

"_You're_ perfect," he says. And I realize then and there that I'm totally falling for him. _Ungh._

We arrive at the Bronze and the place is a madhouse.

"I had no idea so many people have heard of your band!" I have to shout to make myself heard.

"We're huge in Europe!" Spike shouts back. I can't tell if that was a joke or not.

Spike guides me by the small of my back through some double doors that I've never noticed before. A security guard nods to us both and we enter another door labeled "Private". The room is so full of smoke that it takes my eyes a moment to adjust.

There are three men in the room; two sitting on couches and one standing, and two other women; one lounging on an armrest and the other leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, popping her gum. Both of them have blonde hair and way too much hairspray. Ew.

The men on the couches appear to be practicing: one playing the tabletop with his drumsticks, and one strumming an unplugged electric guitar. The other man is grazing the snack table. Everyone looks up when we walk through the door and the room becomes completely silent when they see me.

Spike walks in first and goes to each male in the room, slapping their palms in that weird part-handshake-part-hug thing that men do when they see one another. He nods at the women, and it's obvious that he has never seen them before in his life. Spike returns to me and gently leads me over to his friends. "Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to my girlfriend. Her name is Buffy. Please be gentle with her." Every jaw in the room drops to the floor. Including mine. _He called me his girlfriend! He called me his girlfriend!_

Spike's bandmates remember their manners and quickly stand up and take turns giving me bear hugs. "Welcome to the family!" The drummer says with a warm smile. "My name is Jonathan."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Andrew," the guitarist says shyly, looking at his shoes.

"I'm Warren," says the only one without an instrument. _Bass player?_

I start to turn to the women to introduce myself and Spike grabs my elbow, spinning me around. "Would you like to stay in here until we start, or go out and get a drink?"

"I think I would like a drink. Thanks."

"OK, just put it on our tab. Under the name Buddy Holly." I giggle at the name and Spike wraps his arms around my waist. I'm surprised at the amount of affection he is showing me around his friends.

"Good luck with your show," I say, and give him a peck on the lips.

"You're my good luck charm," he says, smiling. I pull away from him, a little uncomfortable with the public display of affection.

"Good luck, guys!" I say, waving at the rest of the band.

They nod their heads at me and mumble incoherently. It's obvious they're already back in their zone. I walk out into the crowd and make my way to the bar. The opening band is playing, and they aren't half bad. My old friend Tara is bartending tonight and I smile and give her a wave. She goes to the corner of the bar and pushes a few people out of the way to make room for me. Leaning over, she gives me a hug and says, "I didn't expect to see you here tonight! What a pleasant surprise! Can I get you something to drink?"

"I think I'll have my usual. Rum and Coke? Put it on Buddy Holly's tab!" I shout into her ear. Tara lifts an eyebrow and looks at me knowingly. _Oh great. Now she thinks I'm a groupie. _

"You look great tonight by the way," Tara shouts as she scoops ice into my drink. "This is a good look for you," she points to my outfit with her elbow. The opening band finishes up their set, and I am thankful that I no longer have to shout.

"Sorry, Tara. I don't play for your team. But if I do ever decide to switch, you better look out..."

"Oh, believe me, I know," Tara sighs. "But a girl can dream, can't she?" She hands me my drink and I take a well-deserved gulp. "So are you here with anyone...special?" Tara asks, taking an exaggerated survey of the crowd.

I know where she's going with this. And I'm not really sure who I'm ready to tell about Spike and I. But because I trust Tara, I decide to go for it. "Actually, I'm kind of dating the singer for this band that's playing tonight." I look down at my drink and nervously stir my ice with the straw. Tara pulls her head back and looks at me with her mouth opened. _Why does everyone's jaw drop when they find out about Spike and I?_

"The singer from The Dearly Departed?" Tara asks, and I nod. "His name's Spike, right?" I nod again, biting my lip. She's starting to worry me now. "Well, he is pretty cute. For a dude. And I suppose if you have to choose a rock star, he would be the one to go for. At least he's not an asshole. On second thought, pretty much everyone in that band seems to be a nice guy. Just stay away from the groupies." Tara wags a finger at me. "They are jealous and they stick together. They will not hesitate to cut you out of the picture in any way that they can."

I smile. "Oh, I'm not worried about them, Tara. But thanks for the advice."

"I just hope he treats you well. If he doesn't, you know where to find me." Tara winks and gives me another hug and I let her get back to her customers.

I walk back into the crowd and make my way to the front by the stage just as the lights start to flicker, signaling the start of Spike's set.

The crowd begins to clap and cheer and I feel a smile spread across my face. I'm actually proud to be with him, and it feels good. Spike walks onstage first and gives the crowd a little wave. He is wearing his usual: tight black sleeveless t-shirt, tight black jeans, a studded belt, and black combat boots. Across his chest is a black electric guitar. I didn't even know he played guitar! The rest of the band follows and each of them takes their spot: Jonathan on drums, Andrew on guitar, and Warren on drums. I feel like I know them already.

Spike plugs in his guitar and does a quick tune. Walking up to the microphone, he simply says "We're The Dearly Departed." I can see him scanning the crowd for me, and when his eyes finally settle on mine, he gives me a quick wink and the music starts immediately. It is loud and intense, and I can't seem to wipe the grin off of my face. I bop my head and throw my hands into the air, feeling freer than I have in months; years, maybe. I whoop and I holler and I don't even care. This is the new Buffy-the bad, bad pussycat.

Spike on that stage, playing that guitar, singing...the veins popping from his arms and his neck...it's sex. Pure sex. A pretty, older woman close to me is watching him adoringly, and I suppress the urge to cut out her throat. _I guess I need to get used to women throwing themselves at my "boyfriend". _ The woman notices me watching her with a grimace on my face, and moves in closer to me. "I saw you walk in with that guy," she shouts. "He's hot! What's his name?"

I briefly consider snapping her neck, but decide that would be rude. "Spike," I mumble.

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" She continues in her annoying voice.

"Something," I reply, looking down at my shoes.

_What are you doing, Buffy? Don't just stand there and let her drool all over your boyfriend! Wake up! This bitch doesn't know who she's dealing with! Remember the new-and-improved Buffy? _

I look over at the woman and give her the toughest look I can muster. "You know what? As a matter of fact, he _is_ my boyfriend. And you need to back the fuck off. I'm trying to enjoy the show."

"Geez, Buffy...I'm sorry. I was just trying to make conversation..."she says, giving me a disgusted look. She quickly backs away with her palms facing me.

I look back up at the stage and try to regain my focus on the music. What _a way to ruin a perfectly good night_. _Wait a minute—how did she know my name? I don't remember tel-_

I look around, and the woman is nowhere to be seen. _Does the weirdness ever cease?_

After three fantastic upbeat songs, the music changes to a ballad. The crowd begins to sway, and couples put their arms around each other. Spike leans into the microphone and says "This is a new one we've been working on. It's called Sunrise." He doesn't look at me this time when he speaks, and begins to strum his guitar and sing.

_The sound of your voice clears my head_

_I could listen to every word you ever said_

_I'm beginning to think I've known you all my life_

_You reach into my soul and cut through my lies like a knife_

_I want to stay with you and watch the stars fall from the skies_

_But the only sunrise I can see is in your eyes_

_I know everything that surrounds me always dies_

_And I cannot bear another goodbye_

_Don't take this from me, I need it now_

_If I can't have you, I don't know how _

_I'll live on with this burden and weight _

_I can't stand in this fragile state_

I look around me, and the crowd is entranced. Spike's lips trail lightly over the microphone as he sings, and when he is not playing his guitar, his fingertips caress the mic stand. I have never wanted to be a microphone so badly in my life. The words of the song flow through me like magic and I am spellbound. I realize that it's a bit self-centered to believe that this song could be about me. But as Tara said, "A girl can dream, can't she?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

After the show is over, I head back to the bar to get another drink, still grinning from ear to ear. Tara is swamped with customers eager to get a drink before last call, but when she sees me, she motions for me to make my way to the front of the crowd. She quickly fills up a glass with the usual and throws in a cherry with a wink and a smile.

"What a show, huh? Looks like you enjoyed it!" Tara shouts.

"Yeah! It was great! Thanks for the drinks!" I reply, holding up my glass.

"Anytime, Buff! I hope this means I'll get to see you here more often!"

"I hope so too!" I give Tara another hug and push my way back through the crowded Bronze.

I walk back to the backstage area where the bouncer recognizes me and gives me a nod. Opening the door marked "Private" I give my eyes a moment to adjust to the smoke. I can't help but notice that the blonde groupies are no longer leaning against the wall, but I can clearly see the back of their heads, where they are each straddling someone on the couch. I hear giggling and roll my eyes. I look around the room for Spike and am quickly mortified to find that he is one of the people being straddled. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks and turn on my heels to quickly exit the room.

"Hey! It's Buffy!" A drunk Andrew hollers when he sees me. "Come, sit down!" Andrew pats his lap and reaches out to grab my hand, but I roughly pull it away.

"I...uh...just came to...say I enjoyed the show...and I guess I'll be going," I stammer and reach for the door.

"Buffy, wait!" I hear Spike calling after me, and I turn to see him pushing the blonde off of his lap onto the floor. She gives a little squeal and giggles, trying to straighten her skirt.

"What the fuck is this all about, Spike?" I ask, gesturing at the blonde with my drink.

"It's really not what it looks like. I can explain."

"Don't bother. I get it. I'll just be going."

I turn my back to leave and hear the groupie shout after me, "Yeah, you should probably go! Don't worry, sweetie; I'll take care of Spike!"

That does it. I impulsively throw my drink at her and resist the urge to pull her around the room by her frosted hair. _Fucking slag. _

"Hey!" She protests, reaching up for Spike to help her up. Ignoring her, Spike steps over her to grab my arm.

"Don't go, Pet. _Please_."

"I'm just going to walk home. But thanks for bringing me. And don't call me Pet," I snarl.

"Don't walk home. At least let me drive you."

"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"Can we please just talk about this outside?"

"I have nothing to say to you," I say with clenched teeth.

"Please, Pe—_Buffy_. Come on." Spike motions his head towards the door, and I reluctantly follow him in a huff, not wanting to be in this room a minute longer.

In the background I can hear the groupie still whining as the band members help her to dry off, and I can't help but feel slightly victorious.

Spike and I walk through the Bronze and make our way towards the exit. The entire time I try to think of the best way to handle this without looking completely weak. My mind is running a mile a minute. _You are letting him get too close to you...This is moving too fast...He is only going to hurt you...He has women throwing themselves at him...Get out while you still can!_

When we finally exit the building and step into the open air, my head starts to clear a bit. Spike puts both of his hands around my waist and tries to pull me close, but I stand firm.

"Please listen to me, Pet. I don't even know that woman," Spike begs.

"It looks like you know her pretty well to me. And didn't I tell you not to call me Pet?" I cross my arms.

Spike runs his fingers through his hair and starts to pace. "That's just how these girls are! She saw you come in with me, and she heard me introduce you as my girlfriend, so she made it her mission to come between us. I swear, you just walked in at a bad time. She had only just come over to me, and I was trying to get rid of her. You have to believe me, Pet. You're the only one that I want!" Spike's stops pacing and looks straight at me, his blue eyes pleading.

"I really don't know what to say to you... I...I just feel like we are moving too fast, Spike. With the lifestyle that you live, you will always have other women around trying to come between us, and I just don't think that I will be able to live with that. It's not you, it's me. You are just being yourself; doing what you love to do... I don't own you. I can't tell you what to do." I take off his leather vest and hand it to him in a final gesture. He takes the vest and his hand drops down by his side.

"I guess you don't know me at all then, Pet. That's not me. I am loyal; I am faithful. And I don't want anyone but you. I _want_ you to own me. I need you..."

"You don't _need _me! You just need my blood! And all along I thought the sucker around here was _you_! Turns out it's me!"

Spike begins pacing again. "No, no, you have it wrong! I'll admit, that is what it was about in the beginning. I needed your blood to survive, and I still do. But it's so much more than that now. Your blood..._you_...make me feel like I've never felt before. I can't explain it. I can't stand to be away from you for a moment. It's like we're...connected. I wish I could explain myself better...I just...need you." Spike stops and grabs my hand, pulling it up to his lips, kissing my knuckles, and I start to soften.

I should not be letting him get away with this. But the thing is, I know exactly what he is talking about-the connection...I feel it too. I just refuse to give Spike the satisfaction of knowing that.

"I refuse to share you with anyone else, Spike. So just let me know if it gets to be too much for you. I will totally understand," I shrug. "In the meantime, I think I'm going to stay at my house."

"I wish you would stay with me," Spike whispers, grabbing me around the waist again, pulling me close.

I bite my lip, trying not to smile. He's just so darn irresistible when he begs. He kisses me on the lips and then moves his face to nuzzle my ear. _Ungh._

"Come on. Let's walk back to the car and you can think about it." Spike pulls me by the waist towards the parking lot, which has now emptied, save his hearse.

He opens the door for me, and I sit down on the leather seat. As I begin to pull my feet into the car, Spike grabs my knee. "Did I tell you how delectable you look tonight?"

I smile. "There you go with your one track mind. Is my blood all you can think about?"

"Your blood is not _exactly _what I was thinking about..." Spike trails off, licking his lips, and straddles me, pushing me back against the seat. With one push of a lever, the entire front seat drops back and I am suddenly lying down and Spike is on top of me.

"Oof!" I giggle. "_Now _I see why you like this car!"

"The chicks dig it," Spike says in a macho tone. After closing the car door behind him, Spike drops his head to kiss me on the ear.

"So was this your plan all along? To lure me into your car so you could have your way with me?"

"Basically. And I'd say it seems to be working..." Spike muses, trailing his fingers down the front of my dress and grabbing my breast with his right hand. He roughly pushes down the top of my black dress, pulling my bra down with it. His fingers twist and pull at my nipple.

"Yes...yes, I'd say so," I gasp.

His hand moves slowly down to my stomach and behind me to caress my ass. I reach up to pull his head down and kiss his neck and Spike groans. I gently kiss along his jaw line and move around to his mouth, nibbling his lips and encircling his tongue with mine. Just the simple act of brushing my lips against his is enough to make me wet.

Still cupping my ass with his right hand, Spike moves his left hand down to lift my skirt up and feel how ready I am for him. I moan as I feel his hand stroke me over my fishnets. Sticking his thumb into one of the holes, he swiftly rips the crotch out of the pantyhose and immediately places his thumb inside of me. I gasp at the unexpected feel of it and unconsciously try to move away from him. "Shhh..." he says, holding me still. "Just enjoy it." I close my eyes and start to relax, as Spike moves his head down between my legs, licking my clit with fervor as his thumb moves in and out of me.

"Spike..." I whisper.

"Yes, Pet?"

"I want you..."

Spike lets me reach up and unzip his jeans, pulling them down to his knees. He pulls his shirt over his head and the sight of him half-naked sends shivers down my entire body. I reluctantly let Spike remove my dress and my boots, thinking to myself how hot it can be sometimes to leave a little bit to the imagination. Plus, it's chilly out here. I shiver visibly.

"Here. Put this back on," Spike orders, handing me back his leather vest. _Wow. He read my mind._ I do as I'm told and put the vest on over my bare skin, so that all that I'm wearing now is the vest and the torn fishnets. I lean back on my elbows.

"Holy shit, Buffy. _Now _you look good enough to eat."

I blush and Spike reaches down and places his palm flat on my stomach, opening up the vest, and he bends his head to trail kisses from my collarbone down to my bellybutton and back up again to my neck. I reach up to touch his cheek and brush his lips and he takes my finger into his mouth, sucking gently.

"Oh, Buffy. I can't wait any longer." I spread my legs apart to let him in and suddenly he is inside me, filling me, stretching me. As he moves in and out of me, the feeling is unbelievably perfect. I can't help thinking we were made for each other. We really are connected.

Spike lowers his head and kisses my breasts, tasting my nipples and flicking them with his tongue. He lingers there for a moment, and I look down to see the reason for the pause: his fangs are drawn.

"May I?" he asks.

"Mmmmmm," I moan.

"Is that a yes? I don't want to do anything you don't want me to do."

"Yes," I say breathlessly.

I feel the familiar pinch of his teeth and the pull of his lips, but nothing could have prepared me for the mixture of him filling me and drinking from me at the same time. I am taken to a completely different time and place. I am no longer in a car or a parking lot, or even in Sunnydale. The stars are swirling above my head and all I can do is moan and scratch my nails down Spike's back. We come together and the stars above my head turn into shooting stars.

Spike collapses next to me, rolling over and wiping the blood off of his mouth. "Let's quarrel more often, whaddya say?," he teases. I punch him in the arm. _Ouch._


	8. Chapter 8

*I know it's been a long time since I've updated, but I hope you haven't forgotten about me! Please review my latest chapter! *

I awake with a start and have to squint to see. My heart is pounding from yet another nightmare, but this one has already escaped my memory. We are still in Spike's car, in the parking lot of The Bronze. We both must have fallen asleep, but luckily it's still dark outside. I look down and realize that Spike's arm is about the only thing keeping me decent.

_That's really classy, Buffy. And the slut of the year award goes to…._

I quickly find my dress and slip it on without waking Spike. I strategically place the leather vest over Spike's bottom half and search around the floorboards for his pants. Finding his keys in the pocket, I climb over the seat, slide into the driver's side and start the ignition. I had been driving for about five minutes before I realize I'm not driving in the direction of the graveyard.

Putting my key in the door with one shaking hand and the other hand holding up Spike isn't as easy as I make it look. "Jesus, Spike. I didn't realize you had so much to drink," I grunt, hoisting him up a bit.

"I'm in a baaaand. Ish aaalll part of the job, Pet," Spike slurred with his head on my shoulder.

I push the door open as quietly as possible and I'm greeted by the familiar smells of home.

"Where are we?" Spike asks.

"Shh. We're at my house. We can't wake up Dawn."

"Dawnie? She's adorrrrable! Where is she?"

"I said be quiet!" I hiss. "Anyway, how do you know she's adorable?" I raise an eyebrow at Spike and then shake my head. "Never mind. Don't answer that. Just be quiet," I whisper.

The trip up the flight of stairs to my bedroom takes far too long. Once we reach the landing, Spike leans against the wall with a thud. "I just need to take a little break," he says.

"Well, if Dawn wasn't awake before, she certainly is now," I say, slapping Spike's arm.

Right on cue, we hear the creek of Dawn's bedroom door opening. "Buffy? Is that you? That better be you. And if it's not, I have pepper spray!"

"Yes, it's me, Dawn. I was out late. Go back to bed."

"Oh, OK. I'm just gonna go pee. I swear, I have a bladder the size of a fruitf-" Dawn stops dead in her tracks. "Buffy, you didn't tell me you had a guest with you," Dawn says, nervously pulling down her nightshirt.

Spike does his best to stand up straight and shake Dawn's hand. "I'm Spike. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Dawn. I was just going…to pee. And then I'm just gonna go back to bed. Over there. I'll leave you two…alone." Dawn rambled.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," Spike says, as Dawn giggles and bounces to the bathroom.

"She seems sweet," Spike offers.

"She is. She's sweet and innocent and you need to stay far, far away from her," I warn him.

"Why? I can be a good boy…" Spike pouts.

"I'm just very protective of her. I don't want her exposed to all of the things I was exposed to at her age. Just…come on. Let's go to bed. You need to sleep off some of that alcohol." I grab Spike's arm and pull him to my bedroom, shutting the door behind us.

Spike glances around the room, but luckily it is too dark for him to see some most of it.

"So…this is where the slayer sleeps, eh?"

"Yep. It's just your typical girl's bedroom, I guess. Just don't look in that trunk over there. That's where I keep my crossbow." Spike laughs, not realizing that I wasn't joking.

"Mmm…" Spike mused, biting his lip. "I don't think I've ever shagged anyone in a bed with a canopy…"

"No, Spike. That is not what we're here for. I'm exhausted. And you need to get some sleep. You can barely stand up. Just go to sleep." I help Spike take off his boots and pants and he gets under the covers. I change into my least attractive sleepshirt and climb in next to him, instinctively trying to rub my feet against his legs to warm them up. Of course it didn't help. Vampires don't snuggle very well. I could hear Spike sniff. "Are you laughing at me?" I ask, looking up at him in shock.

"I just wish I could be the man you need me to be, Petal." And with that, he drifts off to sleep.

Of course I can't fall asleep after that. _What did he mean by that? Was he right? Would we ever be able to have a "real" relationship? Would we ever be able to tell people about us? Obviously, we'll never be able to go out into the sunlight together. Will this ever be more than just a sexual relationship?_ After about an hour of going over and over his words in my mind, I eventually fall into a fitful sleep.

I dream of being tortured. Of being submitted to the greatest pain one can imagine. The woman who is torturing me is masked, so I can't see her face, but she is speaking with an English accent. She holds a hot poker to my neck, and as I scream, she shushes me and speaks to me like a crying baby: "It's alright, sweetie. Just tell me where he is." But the pain I feel is not from the hot poker. It is from loneliness. He is gone.

When I awake, there are tears in my eyes. I feel around the bed for Spike, but he isn't there. This only makes me want to cry more, and I feel like all of my questions from the night before were answered by this dream. I need him. And I will do anything in my power to keep him with me.

Slipping on a pair of sweatpants and my fuzzy bunny slippers, I pad down the stairs, following the sound of voices and music to the kitchen. I stand in the doorway and watch Spike and Dawn making pancakes and dancing around the kitchen to a song on the radio. _"If you wake up and don't wanna smile/If it takes just a little while…"_ Spike sings into the spatula.

Spotting me in the doorway, Spike nervously puts the spatula on the counter and crosses the room. "Good morning, Pet. Nice slippers," Spike says with a smirk, kissing me on the forehead.

"Morning, Spike. Nice…singing," I reply with my own smirk.

"Would you like some pancakes, Buffy? We made some with blueberries and some with chocolate chips. And after breakfast, Spike is going to teach me some guitar chords!"

"Just G, D, and A for now, Nibblet. Once you know those three chords, you'll be able to play all the best punk songs." I roll my eyes, but inside my heart aches. I haven't seen Dawn interact with an older male role model since our father left us. And as much as I don't want Dawn exposed to my world, I trust Spike. For some reason.

"Well, we can't have chocolate chip pancakes without peanut butter!" I announce, pushing my way to the refrigerator.

"Peanut butter? On pancakes?" Spike wrinkles his nose.

"Oh, yes! It's really-" Dawn is interrupted by the doorbell. "I'll get it!"

While Dawn runs to the front door, Spike pushes me against the refrigerator to give me a proper good morning kiss, which of course gives me the standard butterflies in my stomach. "I wasn't kidding. I really like those slippers," he says, making me giggle.

"Spike! Someone's here to see you!" Dawn calls.

"Who could possibly know you're here?" I ask.

Spike shrugs and goes to the front door while I stay and search for the maple syrup. As soon as I find it in the back of the fridge, the sound of Dawn's ear-piercing scream makes me drop the jar, shattering it into a million pieces.

I can't move. Dawn doesn't have to come into the kitchen to tell me what I already know: he is gone.

"Buffy! We have to do something! We have to go after them! They put a sack over his head and put him in a white van. Who are they? Is this some sort of a prank? What's going on, Buffy? And why are you just standing there?"

"Don't worry, Dawnie. I'll find him. He'll be fine," I assure her. But I have a feeling it won't be so easy.


	9. Chapter 9

The next few minutes are spent with me basically walking in circles completing meaningless tasks, trying to decide what to do next.

"Buffy! What is _wrong_ with you? You're acting so weird!" Dawn grabs me by both shoulders and shakes me roughly.

"I…I don't know, Dawnie! Just give me a minute! My brain is all fuzzy. I just need a minute to think…" I trail a sponge along the countertop. It's like I used to be the person everyone came to in an emergency, but lately I barely know what to say when someone sneezes.

Dawn's eyes widen. "Oh crap. You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"Pshhh. Noooo. I'm just—"

"Oh my God! You are! You're in love with him!" Dawn jumps up and down, giggling and clapping her hands.

"Dawn, grow up. This is not the time. I have things to do. I have to find him." I hand Dawn the sponge and grab a pancake, heading for the staircase.

"You're not getting off the hook that easily! We'll talk about this later!" I hear Dawn call after me as I run upstairs to change my clothes.

It feels good to put on my slaying clothes again. Leather pants, comfortable black tee, and canvas sneakers. The old standby.

I pull my hair into a ponytail, and at the last minute, throw on Spike's leather vest over my t-shirt. Inhaling his scent, the memories of everything that's happened since I met him come flooding back to me and bring tears to my eyes. Then and there, I resolve to find him no matter what it takes.

I walk over to my hope chest and pull out a few stakes, a bottle of holy water, and a book of matches. I place the stakes in the waistband of my pants and the rest in the vest pockets. My heart is pounding, but there's no turning back now.

I bound down the staircase calling out to Dawn, "You stay here and if you hear the doorbell again, do _not_ answer it! Call me on my cell if you hear anything."

"Awww let me come," Dawn pouts. "I can help you. I have clues!"

"White van, got it. Dawn, please. Don't argue with me on this one. You have to stay safe. I'll keep you posted on what I know." I head out the door without giving Dawn time to protest.

The Magic Box is lit on the outside but quiet and calm on the inside as usual. My best friend and confidant, Willow, is standing at the counter thumbing through what appears to be an ancient spell book. The bangs of her strawberry hair fall in her face, covering her intense green eyes. You would never be able to tell by looking at her that she is actually a very powerful witch. She looks up when she hears the bells ring as I enter the shop and smiles. "Buffy! It's so good to-" Willow gasps when she sees my tearstained face. "What's wrong, Buffy? Is it Dawn?"

"It's a long story, Willow. I'm not even sure you can help me. I just didn't know where else to go." I slump down in the nearest chair and try to figure out where to begin. The sight of my friend seems to only make the pain worse and I break down crying.

"Oh, Buff!" Willow runs over to give me a hug. "Of course, I'll do anything I can to help you! Don't cry. Here, wipe your face." Willow hands me a tissue and I blow my nose.

"Look at me, I'm a mess. This is just not like me," I sniff, shaking my head.

"It's OK. Sometimes you just need to cry. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Oh, Will. It's really bad. You probably won't even _want_ to help me after you find out," I wail.

"Try me. There's nothing you could do that would be bad enough for me to be angry with you. You always have a reason for the things you do."

In between sobs, I start to tell Willow my story, leaving out the most intimate parts. "There's this guy I met. He's so perfect for me, Will. We only just met, but we have this crazy connection. It's like everything I've ever done was to bring me to him. I swear we dream the same dreams. And he's gorgeous! He's perfect in every way….But…"

"But…?" Willow prompts me to continue.

"But he's a…vampire." The last word is barely a whisper.

"I'm sorry, I could have sworn you just said he's a vampire," Willow laughs.

I look up at her with my swollen red eyes and let my silence be my reply.

"Buffy! Are you _insane_?!" Willow's eyes practically pop out of her head. "You are going to get yourself killed! Can you even _comprehend_ how much danger you are putting yourself in? Not to mention everyone you know?" Willow's anger is palpable. I start to feel a light breeze flowing through The Magic Box.

"Willow, calm down," I hold out my palms to her. "You just promised me you wouldn't be mad at me. Please, you _know _I wouldn't do anything to put anyone in danger. It's just that this connection we have…it's changed us both. Neither of us…neither of us seems to have the instinct to kill anymore. Or slay, in my case."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but while you've been in your little love nest, there hasn't really been anything to slay."

"What do you mean?"

"Vampires. The Hellmouth has been eerily quiet."

"Well, yeah. I did notice that. I just figured The Scoobies were doing such a good job…"

"I've been researching it, and I can't seem to find the cause. They've just…disappeared." Willow begins flipping through her giant book again, clearly frustrated.

"We'll figure it out, Will. Just like we always do. One thing Spike said-"

"Spike? Is that his name?" Willow raises an eyebrow.

"Hey! I never said anything about your boyfriend Oz! Need I remind you that he was a werewolf?"

"Touché. You were saying?"

"I was saying that Spike has been feeling sick and weak. He thought someone might be poisoning him or something. Maybe that's what has been happening to the others?"

"Could be. Sounds very similar to…" Willow's voice trails off as she pulls another thick book off of the bookshelf. In the meantime, I pull a random book down and begin to turn the pages in order to look busy. After about fifteen minutes, Willow slams her palm on the table, scaring the crap out of me. "Interfector Mortis! I knew it!" I give Willow a puzzled look. "But something doesn't make sense….Buffy, you didn't let him drink from you…did you?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I bite the inside of my cheek and look back at Willow innocently. "Um…Letting a vampire drink from me is incredibly dangerous, Willow. I could totally die. Why would you possibly think I would do something stupid like that?"

Willow looks back down at the dusty leather bound book. "It says here that Interfector Mortis, or "Killer of the Dead", is a very powerful drug. While harmless to humans in small amounts, Interfector Mortis causes weakness, paralysis, and a high fever when it enters a vampire's bloodstream. In large amounts, the Killer of the Dead is fatal to vampires. The only known cure is the blood of a slayer. So Buffy, if Spike is, in fact, infected with this…drug…he should really be dead by now. Dead-_er_, that is. Now are you sure there's nothing you need to tell me?"

I begin to pace, finally throwing my hands up in defeat. "OK, so maybe he drank a little. Just enough to bring the color back to his cheeks, ya know? I mean, if you had seen him you would have done the same!"

Willow's jaw drops. "Uh no! I wouldn't! I don't have some crazy death wish! I swear, Buffy. Sometimes I really can't understand what goes through your head. I mean, you _do_ remember what you are, right? The Slayer? You're supposed to_ kill_ vampires! Not fall in love with them and feel sorry for them and keep them alive!" Willow shakes her head vigorously for what feels like an eternity, all the while muttering to herself. "I just can't figure out how all of the vampires are getting Interfector Mortis into their bloodstream…"

While she thumbs through her books, I try to keep myself busy reading the labels on the jars of herbs lining the walls of the Magic Box.

"Eye of Newt? Really?" I crinkle my nose at Willow, trying to distract her and make her laugh.

Shockingly, it works. "That's actually not a bad idea, Buffy!" Willow crosses the room and begins pulling herbs off of the shelves. "You'll need a protection spell… and I think some of my special tea will help bring your strength back….And maybe I can mix up something for Spike too, but it would just be temporary…nothing like your blood, of course." Willow gives me a sharp look.

"You're really going to help us?" Willow's kindness brings tears to my eyes.

Willow waves me off. "Of course, Buffy. You're my best friend. Like I said, I could never be mad at you. Disappointed, yes. But I get over things quickly. I just want you to be safe. This is a dangerous town we live in! Now, come on. Let's go brew something!"

I follow Willow into the back room of the Magic Box and Willow turns on the lights, just long enough to light candles around the room, and then turns them off again.

"Where's your cauldron?" I ask, half joking.

"It's at the house," she answers, missing the humor, "but a stove works just as well." Willow places a small pot on the stove and lights the burner. "Now…lets see…" Willow wipes her hands on her jeans and pulls what looks like a cookbook out of a drawer, opening it to an obviously well-loved page. "Hand me the dragon's blood, please."

I cooperatively hand Willow the ingredients that she asks for while she adds them to the water.

Willow looks into the pot pensively and the room becomes very quiet while she stirs and thinks.

I try to appear busy. "Do you need anything else? More moon water?"

Willow suddenly turns on her heels, and looks at me wide-eyed. "That's it, Buffy! The water! That has to be how the Killer of the Dead is killing the vampires! Someone contaminated the town's drinking water!"

I gulp. "So…everyone in Sunnydale has this Infector…whachamacallit in their bloodstream? Isn't that dangerous? Who would risk doing that?"

"Well, everyone that drinks tap water. Don't you see? It's the perfect way to kill vamps without actually having to slay them! It's not harmful to humans, but if a vampire drinks from a human who has been drugged, he will eventually die. I almost wish I had thought of it myself!" Willow gives me a guilty look when she realizes what she just said. I gulp again at the thought of sweet Willow wanting to kill a vampire like my Spike.

"You said it's not harmful to humans in small doses, but who knows how it could affect us if we're drinking it every day?"

"Obviously whoever poisoned the water supply doesn't care much for humans _or _vampires," Willow shrugs. "But don't worry. We'll find out who did this. The first thing that we need to do is find out where they're getting the drug. Once we can track down the dealer, we should be able to find out who's buying it."

I hug Willow again, thankful to have her here to help me.

A few seconds later, Willow has two bubbling pots on the stove. One she pours into a bowl and the other she pours into a teacup, which she pushes across the table to me. "Drink this while we wait for the protection potion to cool off."

I take a tiny sip of the tea. "Blergh! This stuff tastes like metallic…dirt!"

"That's just iron. Drink up. You'll need all the energy you can get." Willow tips the bottom of the teacup, forcing me to drink. I hold my nose and drink as much as I can stomach, jiggling my leg as if that will help it to go down.

"Good girl. Now I think that the potion has cooled." Willow dips her fingertips into the bowl and dabs the potion onto my wrists and neck in the shape of a pentagram, chanting,

"_With this pentagram/_

_Protection I lay/_

_To guard my friend/_

_Both night and day/_

_And if harm shall ascend/_

_May it quickly dissipate/_

_I now invoke the law of three/_

_This is my will, so mote it be!"_

"So you're officially protected. Now I think I'll go look in a few more books. Maybe if I can find out some history on the Interfector Mortis, I can figure out what type of person would use it… " I can tell by Willow's eyes that she is already back in research mode, so I leave as quickly as possible before she tries to put me to work.

I give Willow a kiss on the cheek "I can't thank you enough, Willow. You're the best. I'm gonna go by Willy's Place and ask around. Someone there may have heard something.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The chimes on the door of Willy's Place are obnoxiously loud. Presumably to alert any demons who are trying to keep a low profile. My presence causes quite a commotion and I can't help but chuckle at the demons clearing their throats and sitting a little straighter in their barstools as I enter. Good. The worst thing I can do in this situation is show any signs of weakness. They'll eat me alive. Literally.

A particularly ugly demon covered in warts walks past me and purposely bumps into my arm. "I'm walkin' here!" I shout at him with disgust and almost punch him. Warty backs off and snorts an apology as he walks out the door. I approach the bar and Willy nervously begins drying beer glasses with a dishtowel.

"What can I get ya, Dollface?" Willy asks with feigned confidence.

"Whiskey on the rocks with a twist," I answer, claiming a barstool. Luckily, that horrid tea that Willow made me drink has given me back my strength and cleared my head, but a little more liquid courage wouldn't hurt. I tap my fingers on the bar while I wait for my drink.

Willy places the drink on the bar in front of me and carefully twists a strip of lemon peel, placing it on the rim of the glass. "So, why are you _really_ here, Slaya?"

"Geez, can't a girl just get a drink around here _without_ the third degree?"

"C'mon. I know you're not here for the ambiance, and you're makin' my customers nervous. So out with it."

I pick up the glass and slowly swirl the contents around before taking a long drink, trying to think of the best way to phrase my question.

"Have you ever heard of something called Interfector Mortis, or Killer of the Dead?"

Willy looks confused and shakes his head. "It's like a drug," I start to explain.

Willy puts his hands up in defense. "Look, lady. This is a bar. The only drug we got here is alcohol. If you're lookin' for somethin' else, you came to the wrong joint." Willy, looking a little peeved, shakes his head and begins wiping down the opposite end of the bar top.

"No, Willy! I-You misunderstood." I call Willy back over to me. "I'm not looking to _buy _it. It's a drug that kills vampires. I'm just wondering if you may have heard anyone talking about it, or better yet, saw someone buying it."

"I know the people who come in here ain't the cream of the crop, but I keep it clean. My customers know that if I saw something like that goin' down, they wouldn't be around for long. A lot of my business comes from vamps. I ain't got no beef with vamps."

I take a deep breath. "So speaking of…do you know of a vamp named Spike?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know Spike. Blonde guy, right? And British? Nice guy. I'm trying to get more bands in here to bring in some fresh blood, so to speak. His band was gonna play out here sometime. Real nice guy. Haven't seen him in a while, though."

I let out a puff of air. "That's what I was afraid you'd say."

"Is he in some kind of trouble? Somethin' to do with this Infector stuff?"

I shrug. "I don't really know. That's what I'm trying to find out." I write my cell number down on a napkin and slide it across the bar. "Could you give me a call if you hear anything at all?"

"Yeah, sure. Anything for The Slaya." Willy gives me a wink.

I take one last swig of my drink and remember, "Oh, by the way, if you want to keep customers coming through the door, I suggest serving bottled water _only_."

And with that, I slide off the barstool and head back out to the street, slamming the door hard enough to make the bells fall to the ground.

The light outside is blinding so I stop to put on my sunglasses and behind me I can hear two women giggling. "Can I bum a smoke?" I hear one of them ask. It takes me a moment to realize that she is talking to me.

"Huh?" I ask, turning around to face them. The gigglers are two young women, one blonde and one redhead.

"Got any cigarettes?"

"Um, no…I don't smoke," I reply absentmindedly. I stare longer than I should, trying to remember why they both look so familiar.

"Well fuck you, then." The blonde turns and faces her friend and starts to giggle again.

And that's when it hits me. The pottymouthed blonde is none other than my favorite groupie from the night of Spike's show, and her redheaded friend is the woman in the audience who knew my name. It all starts to make more sense when I realize that they actually know each other.

My rage from that night comes rushing back to me but I quickly compose myself and paste a cheesy grin on my face. "Ladies!" I approach them both and put my arms around their shoulders, making their eyes widen in fear. "Remember me? I thought I would never have the pleasure of seeing you again! Oh, I'm sorry. I can see that you're having a hard time remembering who I am. Perhaps you were too loaded that night to remember anything, so let me refresh your memory. My name's Buffy. Or, better yet, maybe you'll remember my boyfriend. Does the name 'Spike' ring any bells?" The blonde gulps and tries to look distracted while searching through her purse for a cigarette.

The redhead is a little braver. "Look, Buffy. I don't know what you want, but I promise you, we have no interest in your man. You can have him."

"Oh really? Then what were you doing at The Bronze the other night?"

The redhead pulls away and turns to face me. "We didn't mean any harm. We were asked to keep tabs on you that night and to try to keep Spike from going home with you. Obviously we were unsuccessful. I guess he really likes you," she smiles.

_This is getting more interesting by the second. _Grabbing the redhead by the throat, I grit my teeth and snarl. "I _know_ he likes me. What I wanna know is who told you to keep tabs on me?"

"Just some woman. She had a funny way of talking. I honestly didn't ask her name. She offered us each a line of coke, so yeah, I didn't ask questions. She said there's plenty more where that came from as long as we keep helping her whenever she needs us."

Pottymouth blonde pulls a slip of paper out of her purse and blushes. "I got her number."

I nearly break a nail ripping the slip of paper out of her hand. There is no name—nothing but a phone number written in flowery handwriting. "Thanks, bitches," I hiss. Stuffing the slip of paper into my pocket, I turn and walk as quickly as I can back to the Magic Box. _The last thing I need is those girls asking me for something in return for this information. On the plus side, they're not very smart, so it should take them a while to process what just happened._

Opening the door to the Magic Box reveals a smell unlike anything I have ever smelled. I cover my nose with the neck of my t-shirt and hold my breath. "Holy egg fart, Willow! What the hell is that smell?"

Willow emerges from the back room looking more like an adorable mad scientist than a witch. "Buffy, you're back. That was fast. Did you find out anything?"

"I am not telling you anything until you explain what that god awful smell is." I gasp, opening the nearest window.

"It's kind of a potion cure thingy that I came up with. For Spike." I reluctantly follow Willow into the back room where she shows me the source of the smell: another bubbling concoction on the stovetop. "It's a work in progress, but it should help give him some of his energy back, so he doesn't have to resort to…you know…The Slayer sucking."

I remove the t-shirt from my nose long enough to approach Willow and give her a kiss on the forehead. "Willow, that is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. But I can tell you right now, if I do find Spike, he is _never_ going to drink that shit." I gag and start to walk back to the window for some fresh air.

Willow follows me. "Oh, come on. It's not_ that_ bad. At least take some with you. I'm really curious to see if it works!" Willow walks back and empties some of the still-warm liquid into a small vial, holding it out to me. "Please? I would feel better knowing that I helped." I sigh and take the vial, which puts a smile on Willow's face. "So. What did you find out?"

I pull the slip of paper out of my pocket. "I got a number. I was hoping I could use the phone here. I don't know who I'm calling, so I don't want it traced back to me."

"Go for it," Willow gestures to the phone on the wall and I cross the room to pick up the receiver.

I dial the number and nervously twist the phone cord around my index finger. It rings several times, and just as I am about to hang up, I hear a man's voice on the other end. "Sunnydale Museum of Natural Science, how may I help you?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I'm pretty sure I ran the entire way to the museum without stopping for breath. All I know is I have exactly one clue and I have to follow it. Spike and I may not be "meant to be", but our paths have crossed for a reason and we will always share a bond that is undeniable. If I gave up on him now, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

The sun is going down when I arrive at the Sunnydale Museum of Natural Science. Trying to appear nonchalant, I stand behind a lamppost and watch as a security guard locks the front doors and checks the grounds, shining a flashlight. As he turns a corner, I run past him to the opposite side of the building. Just my luck, there are no unlocked windows or doors anywhere. Looking around, I discover a window at my feet which I presume leads to the basement. Kicking the window in with my foot is easy enough, but sliding through the tiny space is harder than it looks. Dropping to the floor below, I look down to realize that I cut my hand on the broken window. _Shit._ I wipe my bloody hand on my jeans and look around me at the dark and dusty basement. There is a sliver of light coming through the doorway at the top of the stairs, so I approach the staircase cautiously. Not hearing anything unusual, I climb the stairs and slowly open the door at the top.

The doorway leads to a long hallway lined with informative plaques and posters. Looking down, I notice a trail of dinosaur tracks painted onto the shiny tiled floor. I start to follow the tracks to the left, but a noise to my right grabs my attention. Standing with my back to the wall, I slowly follow the noise. Someone is speaking, and as I inch closer, I begin to make out the words. "Cheer up, Spike. Look what I've brought you. Isn't she beeeaaaauuuutifuuul? She has dark hair. Just the way you like." I don't even need to see her face. Upon hearing the female's voice, my fears are confirmed. It is the woman from my dreams. Her British accent, the way she draws out her words, speaking in riddles and rhymes… I tiptoe to the doorway and peer in. Only after my eyes adjust to the darkness do I notice the stars covering the ceiling. A planetarium. Of course. Constant darkness. A vampire's dream home.

Spike is lying on the ground with a beautiful brunette straddling him. She is holding up Spike's weak head with one hand, and a shrunken head in the other.

Spike spits at the shrunken head and growls, "Get that thing away from me, Drusilla."

Drusilla. Spike's sire._ I knew it! But she's supposed to be dead, at least according to Spike. Why would he lie about something like that? He must still be in love with her. But why keep that a secret? And why go through this elaborate scheme to be with her?_

Drusilla drops the shrunken head to the ground and pouts, "I just don't know what to do anymore, Love. I've tried everything I know to make a nice puppy out of you. Don't you remember the fun we used to have? The games we used to play?"

"I'm sick, Dru," Spike says faintly. "I'm sorry, but I don't have the strength for games."

"Oh! I know what you need." Drusilla pulls a small dagger from her dress and cuts into her skin until a thin line of blood forms along the side of her neck.

Spike turns his head away and from my spot in the doorway I can see the pain and exhaustion in his eyes. "We've tried that. It's not working, Drusilla."

Drusilla pulls Spike's head to her neck. "Please, my darling. At least try again. For me?"

As much as I agree with Willow that I shouldn't be allowing a vampire to drink my blood, I can't help myself. I can feel the jealousy coursing through my veins. As I watch Spike drink from Drusilla, I feel my face turn green with envy and I have to admit it to myself: I want it to be _my_ blood that he's drinking.

Drusilla is still holding on to the back of Spike's head while he drinks feebly. "There you are, my dark prince…. Drink up…. Mummy's got you." My jealousy turns to rage as I pull out the stake that I have been carrying. Drusilla's head snaps up turns towards the doorway, her eyes shining when she spots me. "Ahhh…I thought I smelled something tasty. Look, Spike. It's your slayer-shaped chew toy! She must be here for a play date!" Drusilla claps her hands in delight.

I step into the planetarium with confidence and paste my perkiest smile on my face. "You're right! I _do _have a great idea for a game. And the rules may even be simple enough for you to understand! It goes like this: get off my boyfriend, and I will try not to dust you! Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Drusilla rises to her feet and faces me. She is wearing a long Victorian black dress and, even with blood still dripping from her neck, she is beautiful. "Spike? Your playmate has very bad manners. Shall we punish her?"

"That won't be necessary, Princess," I hear Spike say. He stands up slowly and walks up behind Drusilla, snaking his arms around her waist. Putting his head on her shoulder, he begins lapping up the blood dripping from her neck.

My head is spinning, making the constellations above me swirl. "Why?" My voice comes out as a pathetic whisper. "Why did you lie to me, Spike?"

"We had a deal, Buffy. I needed your blood, and you needed my…." Spike bites his bottom lip and reaches down to grab his crotch, making Drusilla moan against him.

"But… you told me she was dead," I motion to Drusilla with my stake. "If you didn't have any feelings for me, you wouldn't have felt the need to lie to me about her."

"Oh, but she _was_ dead. I set her on fire myself. But the old bird just wouldn't give up on me, would you, Princess?" One of Spike's hands moves up to Drusilla's chin with the other still wrapped around her waist. I should have seen this coming. Completely baffled, I look into his eyes for answers. And that's where I see the spark that I know so well-the twinkle in his eyes that tells me that this is all one of his games.

Before I have time to register what is happening, the hand on Drusilla's chin is pulling her head to the left, snapping her neck. "Finish the job, Pet!" Spike orders. I quickly step in and stake her through the heart, sending Drusilla dust flying through the air.

Exhausted, Spike and I both fall to the ground, gasping. I crawl over to him and curl up in his lap, grateful to just have him alive. Spike kisses me on the top of the head. "That was not a nice thing to do to me, Spike," I scold him.

"What did_ I_ do? I was the one being tortured!"

"From what I saw, it didn't look like you were too bothered by it."

"You saw what I _wanted_ you to see, Pet," he says with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, really? How do you know what I saw?"

Spike looks down and grabs my hand, tracing his finger along the dried cut from the broken window. "Not only could I feel you, but I could smell your blood as soon you entered the building. Have you forgotten about our blood bond?"

I clear my throat. "So yeah…about that… I don't think I will be able to let you…drink from me anymore. It's just that it makes me weak and I can't think straight, and…" Spike grabs my chin and cuts my words off with a kiss on the lips.

"Buffy, I've told you, I would never do anything you don't want me to do. If you don't want me to drink from you, I will completely understand."

I pull away nervously, still uncomfortable with so much intimacy. "BUT my friend Willow made something for you that might work." I pull the vial out of my pocket and open it, a little too close to his nose.

"Good God, Buffy!" Spike gags, "That smells bloody awful! I love you, but I think I'd rather die!" Spike realizes the slip the second it comes out of his mouth.

I raise an eyebrow. "You love me?" Spike loosens his collar and shifts uncomfortably under me. "Can vampires even do that?"

"Of course we can love, Pet! I know what it feels like, and unlike you, I'm man enough to admit it. I've been in love before."

I gulp. "With…Drusilla?"

"She wishes!" Spike snorts. "No," he laughs, "her name was Cecily. It was short-lived, but I do know that I loved her. Eventually, Drusilla became so jealous of Cecily that she killed her. But don't you worry, Pet. It was over 130 years ago. I've had some time to heal from my grief."

Wow. I can't imagine what he must have gone through. I don't think I would be able to live if I lost Spike. And that's when I decide to tell him how I feel. I take a deep breath and turn to face him. "Spike?"

"Yes, Petal?" he replies, stroking my head. I can hear the hunger in his voice.

I hold up my hand and use my stake to re-open the cut on my palm. "Drink," I command.

"Are you sure, Love? What about that stinky—I mean, the lovely tea that you brought me?"

I giggle, "You don't really have to drink this awful stuff. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." I take the vial and toss it to the side. "Besides, it's not for much longer. Just until we get the drug out of your system. Willow made me some tea too and it really helps me to feel more like myself." I pause reluctantly, "And, as much as I hate to admit it, I kinda like it when you drink from me."

"Well, in _that_ case…" Spike raises an eyebrow and leans down to kiss my neck. "Mine," I hear him growl as his fangs pierce my neck.

"And Spike? I-I love you too," I say breathlessly.

Spike looks up at me with his gorgeous blue eyes. "I know you do," he replies with a grin.

I punch him in the arm. _Ouch._

**Thank you so very much to my beautiful readers for sticking with me through my very first fanfic! I know that I am my own worst critic, but I really do feel like my story could be SO much better, so if you have any advice or suggestions, please do not hesitate to speak up! I love you all! *mwah***


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